


Something

by TaylorCee591



Series: Perfect Lover [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: ABO, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Beta Sam, Beta Sam Winchester, M/M, Nothing goes right, Omega Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-01-17 10:21:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 110,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12363612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaylorCee591/pseuds/TaylorCee591
Summary: They've prearranged it but will Cas show up to Dean's apartment to help him through his heat? And even if he does, will it all go to plan or will the universe (and those in it) have other ideas?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Really short opening chapter, just to start the ball rolling and let you know I haven't forgotten!

"And what did you do?"

"Nothing," Cas said.

"You just stood in the doorway?"

"We both acted as if we'd never met and continued with the meeting."

"And it went smoothly?"

"Yes," Cas said.

"So why did you tell me about it?"

"You asked me what had happened since my last appointment," Cas stated.

"That's all? You get your new promotion and now a face from your past pops up and that's all?" she asked, sitting on a chair across from Cas who was perched on the edge of a couch he still didn’t like.

Her right elbow leaned on her armrest while she bounced a pen between her thumb and index finger, her pad rested on her knee with illegible scribbles on them. Her handwriting had gradually gotten worse and worse since she’d figured out that Cas could read upside down.

"Yes," Cas said. 

"You never did tell me why you left your last job,” she pointed out (literally, with her pen) as if slighted.

"I did: I didn't like it anymore and I wanted to do something else. You were the one who told me to apply for the job with this firm."

"I merely suggested that if you wanted it you shouldn't let what happened all those years ago stop you. The past can't touch you."

"No, but it can sit across a table from you or-" he stopped before he said 'or stand on the other side of a counter'. He lifted his hand and wiped his mouth downward.

"Or what?" she pushed. She had the tiniest nudge of hope in her eye, Cas knew that if she were an animal and not a human being her ears might have suddenly perked up.

"Or- or ask to borrow your pen," Cas ad-libbed, knowing that it didn't happen.

The woman across from him, his therapist of many years, wasn’t like normal therapists. Meaning that the others in the building wore suits and stuck to textbook answers whereas Megan Masters wore jeans and a t-shirt and often resulted to flattery knowing it embarrassed her clients into accidental honesty. Although her colleagues expressed concern that one day she might use this on the wrong client she was too good at reading people to fall foul to that. And if all else failed she kept a knife in her boot.

Around her neck she wore a necklace made of a leather cord that held a small rectangle of clay with Buddha carved into it, as well as a red Buddha bead and an aluminum tag that all hung below a Chinese coin with a hole in the middle, through which the cord looped. She played with it when she was thinking and it often distracted Cas although she never noticed.

She was playing with it now until she sighed and sat back, tapping her pen against her pad for a few seconds before she dropped her hold on the necklace. Cas’ eyes lifted to her face.

"Mr Novak, I think it would be beneficial to you if I were to refer you to another therapist." Cas' eyes narrowed. "I can tell that there is something you're not telling me, I've noticed it for a while but I attempted to get you to a point where you were comfortable to talk about it. It's been almost a year now since I sensed it and you're still keeping it bottled away so either you're not at a comfortable place yet or you are but not with me. In either case, I feel that I'm not helping you anymore and to continue these sessions would waste both of our time and your money."

Cas let his head hang. "Since when do you despise taking money?"

She smiled. "I work for my money, Mr Novak. And, since, in most cases, therapy is not meant to be life-long, the goal here is to guide you to a mentally safe place where you may not need me in the future. If I'm not doing that then I'm not working."

Cas looked to the side, wringing his hands. "And if I don't want a referral?"

"I would not be comfortable treating you any longer so a referral would be better, for you, than the cessation of therapy."

Cas pursed his lips together. "You want to know what I've been keeping from you."

"No," she said, "I want you to want to tell me."

Cas looked at her. “But if I don't tell you you'll pass me on!" He waved his left hand in the air.

She didn’t even blink. “To someone who may be able to make more breakthroughs.” She smiled. “Chill out, Clarence, this is for your benefit.”

Cas closed his eyes as he hung his head again while he exhaled hard. It was no use, he'd have to do it. He nodded to himself and then looked up at her. 

"I started a relationship of sorts with an omega," he said. "A... sexual relationship." He swallowed, thinking about it. “This all started about a year ago."

And then she smiled in the way he knew she would and was dreading; like she'd won.

She leaned forward, putting her right elbow on her crossed knee and cupped her jaw with her hand, still holding her pen. "Tell me everything," she said before she placed the end of her pen between her teeth.

>><< 

Two months later - February.

Dean closed the door to his apartment and dumped the mail on the side as he walked passed the kitchen and into the bathroom. He quickly urinated and then left the bathroom, crossed the living area while glancing at the rain on the window to the office where he ducked inside to lock away his badge, gun and permit. He realized he hadn't taken his jacket off and did so as he walked back to the pegs to the left of the front door of the apartment. He then clapped his hands together as he went to the fridge to get a beer. When he opened the door he saw that there was only one and half an onion in there. He closed the door and went back to grab his jacket with a sigh as he headed out again.

It was two days before his expected heat and he'd need food anyway but he'd hoped that he could have kicked back tonight and gone tomorrow. But he was determined that if he was being forced to go now then he wasn’t going twice. He checked his wallet as he walked down the stairwell and tried not to wonder if Cas would even turn up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of Dean's heat arrives and already nothing is going right.

Dean sat up quickly in his bed with a severe inhale - as if he'd not breathed deeply in a long time - but wasn't quite awake as he sat up and scrambled backwards to the head of the bed.

As he opened his eyes and saw where he was he exhaled but didn't relax yet. It was light in the room, day was clearly well underway, but it may as well have been the dead of night for all the better the light made him feel. Without turning his head away from the doorway he put his right hand backwards and clasped the handle of a metal baseball bat leaning down the side of his bed and stood up, stumbling as he did so. The light from the window made the words 'Stanford University' stand out. He checked inside his wardrobe and then stood in his open bedroom doorway, quickly checking behind the door with a sweeping hand, sleepy eyes darted around the still room. He couldn't hear anything in the apartment, even outside seemed dead. He found the living area empty and crossed it, looking at his closed office door while he approached the ajar bathroom door with silent footsteps. He stood on the outside, glancing to the seemingly empty balcony, and then exhaled before he walked inside. When he saw it was also empty he stalked the floor to the office and went inside. Finding it also devoid of intruders he closed his eyes and almost lowered the bat in relief before he left the room, eyeing the balcony again as he walked forwards and then to his right, he paused in front of the closet that faced out into the apartment. He exhaled quickly and then pulled the door open, bat pulled back, and found the usual crap inside, undisturbed since he heard it all tumble and fall and didn’t clean it up some months ago. It wasn’t just his stuff, he’d buried some of Jess’ old things Sam had left in the apartment – he didn’t have the heart to throw them out, and he didn’t think it was his right. He stuck his head inside just to be sure and then finally let his shoulders drop as he closed the door over again. He returned the bat to the bedroom and checked the time.

It was ten in the morning on the day of his heat but so far he felt fine. He checked the front door was locked and then the balcony window before he went into the shower where he really started to relax.

>><< 

To say Cas was frustrated was an understatement. He was sitting in work, going over the same reports he'd been going over the day before. Someone had managed to really screw things up since he'd clocked out. And he'd spent all morning covering for Balthazar in a meeting. He knew it wasn't his fault, today had gone from bad to worse; if he hadn't been called in at eight then he would have had to make the journey at twenty past nine when Becky called about Hannah's screw up, or at eleven when Ezra had discovered this mountain of crap they'd once called a report.

Cas sighed, he was letting himself get angry but he couldn't help it. He'd been waiting for this day for three months: the first day of Dean's heat. And where was he? Stuck in his damn office. He couldn't even contact Dean because he hadn't had a minute all morning. What would he even say? Wait for me? Sit in pain all day while I mess around with calculations? He closed his eyes. He couldn't expect that.

But what if Dean would wait, what if all Cas had to do was ask and Dean would understand that Cas did want to be there, that he was coming to him as soon as he could? What if, by not asking, Dean called someone else thinking Cas wasn't coming?

Cas fumbled in his jacket for his cell phone and slid his thumb across the screen to unlock it just as his door opened and he looked up.

"Sir," Becky said, "our lawyer is on the warpath."

"Brady, why?"

She swallowed nervously. "There's some anomalies in the numbers and level seven won't let him-"

Cas sighed and stood up. "I'm coming," he said, gathering up his work. "Call ahead, please." She nodded and he rushed out of the room, leaving his phone on his desk. After a few minutes it went dark as it locked itself.

>><<

Well Cas was trying to referee between a lawyer and three secretaries that some of his colleagues were hiding behind Dean was eating a brunch of pancakes and bacon.

An hour or so later Dean was getting out of the shower still feeling surprising well, if nervous. He wrapped a towel around his waist and looked at the products on the shelf that he'd used. They were his regular two-in-one shampoo with conditioner and his shower gel, this one was blue (he'd tried a different kind that usual, he liked it but thought he'd alternate with the green one he usually used, he hadn't tried the red yet). He went to the cupboard under the sink and found his heat-specific products, opening the shower door wider to step in, getting his left foot wet, and crammed them on the shelf. He looked at them, almost turning away, but then stopped. They looked staged, expectant. So, he turned the shower head on again and let the water spray over them, giving them a look of having been there a while. He turned off the water and considered the scene. He didn't want it to look like he'd expected Cas to show up, like he'd been counting on it - not that he understood why - but then if they'd been there a while that'd look worse, like he'd had no doubt, like he'd been waiting for it. He gathered up the specific products, dried them quickly on a hanging towel and stuffed them back under the sink.

He belatedly dried himself with the towel around his waist and stopped to inspect himself in the mirror. He’d expected to wake up in a sweat but he’d been fine, a little worse for wear after the hunt but fatigue was to be expected – both mental and physical. Of course, having been stabbed hadn’t helped. Dean checked the stitches. The wound was on his left side, low down; it’d missed his lung by barely half an inch, or so the emergency room doctors and nurses kept telling him, along with how he must have someone looking over him and making sure it didn’t even nick _any_ vital organ at all.

 _Yeah_ , _because the dude in the sky watches my ass but doesn’t bother about clean water in Africa or cancer in the west or even saving the Amur leopards._

Dean paused and looked in the mirror, asking himself where the hell he got that from, he didn’t even know there was more than one kind of leopard, never mind that one needed saving. He resolved to blame Sam or Garth, it seemed like some bullshit that they would ruin a nice drive with. He then looked at the wound again.

He hadn’t wanted to go to the emergency room and he got pissy with Sam for not stitching it up himself. Sam waited and waited until he couldn’t take Dean’s attitude again and blurted out that he had, that Dean had been in and out of consciousness which didn’t stop after he’d closed the wound so Charlie had convinced Sam to take him in.

Dean knew exactly why he’d had to whine it out of Sam: his brother knew how embarrassed by it he would be, and he was right, Dean was mortified; a bounty hunter shouldn’t need to go to the ER for a stab wound, especially _after_ the bleeding had stopped. He felt like all of the other hunters were laughing at him, Sam told him that it was in his head. That didn’t help, there were plenty of things in his head that were real, that were true. Just because Dean was paranoid all of the time didn’t mean the sniggers weren’t about him.

He poked the wound once more – seeing that it was healing nicely for a few day’s work – and then ran a hand through his hair to make sure he’d dried it enough. He picked up the glass on the side of the sink and opened the medicine cabinet with his other hand. He picked up the bottle on the second shelf from the bottom, ignoring the shaver and foam, the toothpaste and brush, rarely used comb and hair gel, and that other bottle. He quickly checked it to make sure it was the right one, it was newer than the other and the area around it was dotted with water droplets where a wet hand had recently reached for it. He tipped one of the tablets into his hand and took it, washing it down before he put the bottle back, closed the door and looked at himself in the mirror. They should be helping by now but he wasn’t sure they were, however the thought of not taking them made him feel worse. He emptied the glass into the sink and put it back before he went to his bedroom and found clothes.

He felt strangely calm, except the sick feeling in his stomach. A sick feeling – not butterflies. He was determined about that. Today was the start of his heat, or it was supposed to be, but besides the butter- _sick feeling_ and fatigue, he felt fine. Except the ridiculous thirst that had chased him for a few weeks, the drink in the bathroom had set it off for the day. He went to the kitchen sink, filled a glass and tried not to wonder if Cas was going to show up as he took a drink. He swallowed a full mouth of water, it went down hard and a little painful, like too much does.

He exhaled and looked out at the basketball game going down on the court, it seemed to be the Johnson kids from the seventh floor, each had a team and were trying to prove something to each other. He took another, more manageable drink and tried to determine what was at stake in this game. The brothers were some years apart, how many exactly Dean didn’t know but their teammates’ ages reflected as much. Early into the game the bigger kids realized that, even though they were smarter in strategy and experience, it was more effective to just throw their height and weight advantages around. More amusing too, clearly.

One of the kids fell to the ground and Dean thought about Sam. There was no reason for it, the kid wasn’t anything like Sam. He was about a foot smaller than his teammates, he wore glasses and had curly blond hair, long enough to touch his ears. Dean was sure he’d seen him going in or out of the building at some point, chasing his brace as it fell out of his mouth and then cleaning it in the water fountain with a sigh that told Dean it wasn’t the first time it’d fallen out. Dean had wondered if it was a bad dentist or bad maintenance on the kid’s part. Dentist, he’d decided after seeing the care the kid took to wash it. He always seemed to think of Sam when there was a young kid, whether he was being picked on or defended; whether he was playing football, ripping his jeans; whether he was laughing, crying or reading. Dean saw Sam in every face he stopped to look at, because all the way through his life Sam was all he’d had, all of his memories were of Sam so everything linked back to him.

 _What is pathetic for 400, Alex?_ Dean laughed once before he stopped.

He turned on the spot and took another drink, thinking about _him_. Not his brother. The man who was the only thing in the world that was his. The memories that came from him, the experiences, the feelings…

Dean downed the glass and then cleared his throat to see if it still felt dry. He thought about eating but then decided he wasn’t hungry. Dean went through the same cycle during what was left of the day – doing the rounds of the refrigerator and kitchen units before he’d go into the bathroom again, urinate and check the dosage on the bottle to see that it hadn’t changed and then he’d stand out on the balcony and try not to watch the roads. He’d then feel too cold and tired, all his muscles hurting, so he’d go back to the living room area and watch TV, trying to convince himself he hadn’t also felt too exposed, until he’d start again.

Dean was replaying the kid falling down outside long after the boy had forgotten all about it.

And he was checking his phone every few minutes, hoping for something, anything to tell Dean what was going on. Even if that something wasn't what he wanted to hear.

>><<

Cas checked his watch, it was nearly seven o'clock in the evening and all he wanted to do was leave. Every time he'd convinced himself he could leave something else came up. He wasn't sure if he could take it much longer. He wished someone higher up would drag him out of the office, tell him he'd done all he could, that he was allowed to leave, that he was allowed to go and see him. But maybe he didn't want to, maybe he was scared he'd missed his chance. Maybe all of this was a sign that this was all just a self-indulgant fantasy he should let go of.

"Go home, sir," Becky said, standing at the door. 

Cas looked up to her, maybe that was his sign. Not to see Dean, go home, give up this ridiculous dream that Dean wanted him. He smiled tiredly and nodded once, not really believing it.

She sighed, seeing that he was stuck in a cycle with that report or whatever was swirling around in his head, and walked forward, leaning on the desk making Cas look up questioningly at her face; her stance wasn’t intended to be sexual but secretive even though they were alone. He voice was low but just above a whisper, "I informed medical that you were at work today so they've taken it from your leave. Go, start your leave." She smirked. "Don't keep him waiting any longer."

Cas looked down, smiling an embarrassed smile. Would he really be waiting for him? There was really only one way to find out. So he nodded. "You're right," he said and stood up, feeling trepidation build up in him as he knew he would go, he would go and find out. "I should go." He hadn’t told her anything and she hadn’t asked but somehow she’d known – there was a him not a her.

"I’ll file this lot," she said while picking up the files on his desk. "Get out of here."

Cas continued to smile as he went to the corner of the room to grab his jacket. As he was putting it on Becky stood beside him, files tucked in her right arm and Cas' briefcase in her left hand.

"Okay, make sure Shurley sees the estimates," she nodded, "get the projections to Hannah," she nodded again, each time she did he got the distinct impression she'd already had this all in her head, "I already gave you the notes for Balthazar-"

"Typed and sent, Sir," she said.

He nodded. "Tell Joshua I'll get his quarterly when I come back, it's around here somewhere-"

"It was in your out-tray so I sent it yesterday," she said.

"Perfect," Cas said and put his hand out for his briefcase. "Get Adam up to date."

"Done," she said, handing him it. "And Mr Fuller called to thank you for your condolence card."

Her smile fell as she said it and so did Cas'.

"Right," Cas said. "Poor man." 

Becky nodded. "Okay, go," she said.

"I'm going," Cas said and left the office as he added, “I’ll see you next Monday.”

She nodded, watching him leave and then began filing away what he'd left.

"You should go too," Chuck said, leaning against the open doorway.

She turned to look. "Sir," she said, flustered. "I will, I'm just putting these away."

He made a show of checking his watch. "It's quite late. Have you had dinner?" He grinned as she smiled tight-lipped.

Cas wasn't witness to any of this because he was pressing the elevator button insistently. It'd come from level twenty-seven, stopped at twelve and was now heading for him.

When it opened Cas froze.

"Evening, Castiel," Samandriel said.

Cas stepped into the elevator, almost against the wall, trying to keep away from him, and turned to face the doors as they closed. "Evening, Samandriel," he muttered.

The elevator fell silent.

"Well, how is everything at your end?" Samandriel asked. 

Cas hesitated before he said, "Fine."

"Castiel, you don't have to be afraid, I know better now than to come into work on heat."

"I wouldn't touch you either way," Cas said and walked away as soon as the doors opened onto the parking lot middle-upper level, walking as fast as he could to his car. He didn’t pause when he got in it and locked the doors, he knew that’s when people thought they were safe but weren’t so he proceeded to hastily start his car, pull out of his space and down the ramp so fast the tires squealed.

He didn’t turn the radio on as he stuck to the speed limits and took the shortest route he could think of to Dean’s apartment building. He tried to ignore the feeling that whatever he was running away from was sitting behind him in the back seat, breathing on his ear.

 >><<

Dean looked at his cell phone again and sighed.

"He's not coming," Dean said and lay back, changing the channel and settling down, feeling deflated and heavy. The idea of calling another alpha didn't enter his head but it wasn't just because he didn't feel in need yet. And if he'd thought about it it wouldn't have even been in question but all he could think of was the last time they spoke, in Cas' bedroom. He wondered if he'd done something wrong, if Cas hadn't actually wanted to come but had been blindsided by his offer, the guy had just woken up. Maybe Dean rushing off at the break of dawn had upset him.

Dean picked up his cell phone again.

Maybe he should call and explain.

He threw it to the coffee able.

"Or just accept the rejection this time," Dean mumbled to himself and tried to switch his brain off, waiting for the intensity of the heat to start.

>><<

Now, as he was driving, Cas was a little worried that he’d forgotten where Dean lived when he didn’t recognize the street he was on and looked around when he pulled up at a stop sign. Eventually he noticed the store he’d visited during Dean’s previous heat at his apartment and changed his indicator, much to the annoyance of the people in the vehicles behind him. He tried to feel sorry but in truth he was too anxious. He just wanted to see him.

When he’d parked he took a second to exhale, which he did as if he’d ran all the way on one breath, and closed his eyes, wondering if that presence behind him had missed its chance to pounce or if it’d be there when he came back. He eventually grabbed his bag and got out of the car, forgetting the white box on the front passenger seat beside him, too busy trying not to feel watched.

He pulled at his tie when he got to the correct landing and then let his left arm extent to the floor, practically dragging his large gym bag across the dirty ground to the doorway, he hadn’t gone home but he’d been packed that morning when Balthazar had called him in a panic and asked him to cover for him. He’d gotten changed into his suit and bundled his things into his car determined that he wasn’t coming back before the end of Dean’s heat. Part of him wished he’d gotten changed before he’d left work but he hadn’t thought about it and if he’d had a chance to think of it before he left the building it had been chased away the minute the elevator doors had opened.

He shook it all from his shoulders with a shiver as he inhaled and knocked the door. He wasn't sure what he'd find on the other side but he figured one thing - if Dean looked happy to see him he had to be alone and if that was the case then they could figure it out.

Dean looked over his right shoulder and felt his heart race in fear, he pointed the remote at the TV and turned the volume down as he stood and dumped the remote back onto the couch where he’d been sitting. Even though Dean walked swiftly to the front door of his apartment he did so lightly enough that Cas didn’t hear him. Dean’s right hand opened the lid to the tin box that held his personal gun on the top shelf of the unit behind the door, perpendicular to the kitchen unit, just under the mail, and leaned to look through the peephole. Cas looked up when he sensed there was someone behind the door and wondered if Dean was going to ignore him, maybe he wasn't alone after all. Dean however raised his eyebrows, either in surprise or relief, and flipped the lid closed in a hurry to answer before Cas went away.

Dean put his left hand to the chain and rattled it to let Cas know he was there as he checked his hair and teeth in the mirror above the coat pegs. He then concentrated on taking the chain off, unlocking the door and pulling the door open with his right hand. Dean’s right arm stayed hidden behind the door as he took in the sight before him; a part of him had thought that Cas really wasn't coming but whatever reason he had he was here now.

Now however, Cas stood there in front of him and he couldn’t stop the elation he felt. Cas looked like he’d had the worst day in history; his tie was pulled, not enough to unravel it but enough to turn it around; his shirt was pulled at his left side; and his coat lay slightly askew on his shoulders. Clearly, he’d ran a hand through his hair and hadn’t had time or presence of mind to fix it – and Dean thanked any god that was listening for that - and his bag on the floor on his left as his hand loosely gripped the strap. The fear he’d felt in his stomach had given way for, not only relief or surprise but joy, at the sight.

“Heya Cas,” Dean said, standing there, leaning on the door with his right arm, wearing jeans and a t-shirt as well as socks and felt himself slowly smile without even trying.

Cas smiled back, feeling the weight of the past few months drain from him; it didn’t matter what Meg said or what was going on at work, this was what he got through it all for, for the next seven days nothing else existed except him and Dean. And Dean was pleased to see him.

“Hello Dean,” Cas said, as the aroma of the apartment and Dean drifted towards him. It was the smell after striking a match and then shaking it to extinguish the flame. There was something else there, like gun oil.

“Come in,” Dean said and stood back, to let him, gesturing to the coat peg.

Cas stood in front of it as he spoke and Dean closed the door, staying there once he had locked it and pulled the chain through, his body turned towards Cas. Cas dumped his bag on the floor at his feet, not paying the action much attention. “I apologize for the time, I wasn’t supposed to be working today but I was asked to go in.” Cas hung his coat up and then pulled his jacket off, not taking his eyes from Dean, hoping that was enough, hoping Dean would understand. He just wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to be surrounded by him. He wasn't sure he could hold it back.

“No problem, you're here now,” Dean said but what he had taken a breath to say next was swallowed up when Cas stepped forward to kiss him, his right hand moving from Dean’s hip to his back and pulling him in.

Dean’s eyes widened in shock and then closed as he kissed him back, then they merely twitched when Cas pushed him into the shelves, the gun box fell against the kitchen unit behind it and the unopened mail scattered to the floor. Dean’s left hand gripped Cas’ shoulder as he tried to ignore the pain around his wound and his right ran through Cas’ hair while Cas’ own left hand pushed under Dean’s t-shirt at the front only to move around and run up his bare back. Dean found himself humming into Cas’ mouth at the contact but when Cas did the same back he shook away any shame he might have felt. Dean had been worried about when he was able to do that and it seemed like he needn’t have worried at all but then a thought crossed his mind: that this was wrong. Maybe ‘wrong’ wasn’t the exact word he needed but it was at least deceitful.

Dean pulled out of the kiss and Cas, misreading the situation, began to kiss his neck. “Cas, wait,” Dean said and pushed lightly on his shoulder as he shirked away from Cas, making him lean back to look up at him. “I- I’m not on my heat,” he said.

Cas nudged back a little more, feeling more confused than anything else. “Did I get the date wrong?” he asked.

“No,” Dean said and Cas just stared at him. “It’s just not here yet, it’ll come but-” Cas began to move away from Dean feeling confusion shift to embarrassment as he fixed his clothes while Dean relaxed against the shelf, a hollow thud marking the moment the front edge was able to sit back on the floor. “I didn’t want to continue under- under false pretenses or whatever.” He exhaled as the pain began to fade.

“No,” Cas said with a nod, “that’s-” He ran a hand through his hair and Dean watched the movement. “That was the right thing to do.” Cas nodded again and he put a step between them while Dean’s hands fell back to his sides. “I appreciate it.” Dean exhaled. “I apologize for my behavior.”

“Don’t,” Dean said. “It’s fine.”

“I don’t know what came over me,” Cas said and Dean wondered if that were true or not. “Would you like me to leave and come back or-?”

“No!” Dean said and put his hand out before he calmed and shrugged. “I mean, I read that having an alpha there can help a heat come on so you should stay. If- If you want.”

Cas nodded, he knew that too. “If you’re comfortable with that,” Cas said.

Dean shrugged as if the question didn’t need to be asked. “Yeah, course,” he said and smiled before he walked away towards the kitchen. “Um, something to drink?” He opened the fridge door and dipped to look inside, closing his eyes and exhaling quietly.

“Do you mind if I get changed out of my work clothes first?” he asked as he picked up the bag. He dipped quickly to pick up Dean’s mail and put it on the top of the shelf unit, not paying any attention to the box in the middle.

Dean looked around at him and shook his head. “Me casa and all that,” he said and Cas nodded before he walked away towards the bedroom.

Dean straightened up, watched him disappear into the bedroom and wished he could follow him. He hit himself on the forehead. “Idiot!” he hissed to himself and scolded himself for stopping him.

He knew if he had any kind of stones he’d follow him in there and push him onto the bed, offering to help him get undressed. He imagined Cas would tell him that he hadn’t wanted to get undressed he’d wanted to change but while he tried to pull at Dean’s jeans he’d joke that it didn’t seem like Cas cared that much. He thought that Cas would pull his t-shirt over his head and then roll over on top of him, kissing his skin as he tried to help Dean unbutton his own shirt but Dean would slap his hands away and mutter that he’d been waiting for this for three months and he wasn’t going to let Cas take it away. He smiled when he thought of Cas chuckling against his throat and biting down on the skin on his chest as he pushed his hips against Dean’s. Dean would tease him, asking him if he hadn’t cleaned the pipes in three months but Cas would answer the question by whispering unbelievably dirty suggestions in Dean’s ear.

Cas appeared from the bedroom and watched Dean staring ahead of him as he stood with his right arm on the fridge door and bit his lip, buried deep in his own thoughts.

“Are you feeling well?” Cas asked.

Dean suddenly looked to him. “Huh?” He saw Cas was standing in jeans and t-shirt looking at him expectantly. “Oh, yeah!” he said and nodded, ducking to look in the fridge and swearing under his breath.

Cas walked towards him, stopping just on the other side of the fridge door. “Are you sure you want me here?” he asked, making Dean jump with surprise at his proximity, leading him to hit his head on the edge of roof of the fridge.

“Dammit!” he said and brought his head out, straightening up and rubbing it as he nodded and closed the refrigerator door, a thoroughly annoyed expression on his face. “Yeah,” he said.

He froze when Cas reached out his left hand and brushed it through Dean’s hair, Dean’s own hand dropping while Cas’ other hand came up. He was obviously fixing Dean’s hair and Dean just stood there and let him.

Cas seemed to realize what he was doing and lowered his hands, his face suddenly going red as he stuffed his offending hands into his front pockets. “I- Sorry,” he said, flustered.

“It’s fine,” Dean said. He cleared his throat. “I made dinner, I don’t know if you want any?” he asked.

“That sounds good,” Cas said.

“You don’t know what it is yet,” Dean pointed out and Cas looked away as Dean opened the refrigerator. “You like cheeseburgers so I thought steak would be a safe option,” he said as he pulled out a plate covered in foil with one hand and pulled the foil over enough for Cas to see steak, fries and various vegetables.

“It looks great,” Cas said and looked at Dean with a smile.

“Well, that’s yours,” Dean said and handed him it before taking out another plate and closing the door. He went to the oven and turned it on.

Cas looked from his plate to Dean’s and then pulled the foil back over to see if there was any distinguishing qualities. “How do you know this is mine?” he asked.

Dean looked over his left shoulder at Cas. “Because yours has rabbit food,” he said and smiled as he took Cas’ plate back and put them on the side, waiting for the oven to heat up.

Cas watched Dean turn and head back towards the couch before he followed him and tentatively sat down with a reasonable distance between them. Dean looked to it as he sat and then to the TV wondering why his heat wouldn’t hurry up so he had a legitimate reason to be all over this guy.

They sat awkwardly waiting in an equally awkward silence for the oven to heat up and then further for the food to heat up. Neither of them could think of anything to say. Once the food was ready Dean put Cas’ plate on the coffee table in front of him and then his own before he put down the two beers he’d tucked into his arms then dropped a bundle of cutlery in between the plates.

“How’s work?” Dean finally asked as he sat down and untwisted the top from his beer, it came out in a rushed murmur and Dean tried to pretend that no it didn’t.

Cas sat forward and picked a fork and knife from the bundle as well as a nervous inhale. “Uh, good,” he said. “What about yours?”

Dean sensed there was something wrong. “You lost your promotion or something?” he asked.

“No,” Cas said and forced a smile onto his face. “I just had a hard day.” He exhaled as he began cutting into his food.

Dean decided to drop it. “Well, the hunting game is no picnic either,” he said.

“How did that case go…?” He paused, thinking. “Garth, was it?”

Dean thought about it and then remembered. “Oh, yeah, yeah,” he said. “It was-”

The last time they’d spoken shot through Cas’ head in a millisecond, in particular the way they’d arranged this heat. “Oh!” Cas said suddenly, cutting Dean off, he dropped his cutlery onto his plate, bounded up from the seat, ran to his coat and rummaged in his pockets. Dean turned to see him pull the chain and then unlock the door before he disappeared through it, leaving it slightly ajar.

Dean sat for a second. “I’m gonna assume he’s coming back,” Dean said to himself, watching the door and fighting against his instinct to get up, close it behind him, lock it and stack furniture up behind it. He took a drink of his beer and tried to pretend he wasn’t as easily freaked out as that.

A few minutes later he heard footsteps and felt his muscles tense up, he started mentally listing all of the weapons in the apartment and trying to decide which would be the quickest to get to. His work gun was in the office but locked away in the safe so that was out, the baseball bat was in his bedroom but might not be enough if he found his personal gun in the box on the shelf by the door. He wouldn’t admit it to himself but there was another baseball bat with barbed wire wrapped around it leaning against the frame of the window, just hidden in the shadow enough that no one would see it and considering that he was five flights up he hoped he’d never have to use it. He’d found it in his dad’s storage unit and dismissed it until recently, it’s not like legal bounty hunters can be swinging those around.

When Cas emerged as the source of the footsteps Dean failed to hide his relief when he closed his eyes and turned back to his plate.

“You uh- You just left,” Dean said as the door closed.

Cas watched him intently and turned to lock the door and pull the chain across. “I forgot to bring this up,” Cas said and walked over, sitting down beside Dean again. He held out the white box he had in his hands.

“What is this?” Dean asked and watched Cas gesture to it with a nod of his head before he took it. He opened it to find a massive pie with – what looked like – blueberry filling and lattice.

“It’s pie,” Cas said and Dean nodded looking at it. “Blueberry,” Cas clarified. “I wasn’t sure what kind you give someone for their birthday so,” Dean looked up, “I just made the one I thought I could.”

“You made this is for my birthday?” he asked.

“It’s late, I know,” Cas said and looked to Dean’s confused expression. “You wrote it on my calendar?”

Dean’s face showed remembrance. “Oh!” he said and nodded. “I remember now.” He looked back to the pie. “I was just kiddin’ Cas, you didn’t have to do this.”

Cas picked up his plate and put it onto his lap, when he felt how hot it was he put it back on the table and began cutting into it with cutlery. “I have to admit I thought you were serious until I asked Becky and she cleared it up.” It occurred to Cas right then that she didn’t guess, he’d told her about Dean, without saying his name, and must have used a pronoun.

“But you brought it anyway?” Dean asked and stood up, moving around the couch to put the pie in the kitchen. He put it on top of the fridge and sat back down on the couch, using it as a chance to be closer to Cas than he had been.

“I wanted to,” Cas said, well aware of how close Dean was and trying not to show it.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean said and then neither of them said anything more, both focusing on their food until they were done, Dean leaving almost half of his plate untouched, and had each nearly finished a second beer.

Dean had a second of panic that he’d forgotten to turn the oven off so he looked over his right shoulder and saw it was off, catching Cas’ attention in the process. Cas looked at him and his eyes moved from the oven to Cas’ own. Cas looked away embarrassed, playing with his beer top before he put it and the bottle on the table.

“Do you want some pie?” Dean asked, turning back to face his plate, picking them both up as he stood. He had started walking around the couch towards the kitchen area before Cas answered him.

“No, thank you,” he said and turned to see Dean began to scrape what was left on the plates into a trash can under the sink in the corner of the kitchen area, underneath the window which looked down onto the court the kids were using that morning. Tonight, however, it was abandoned and covered in rain that had fallen quickly and briefly in the time it had taken them to eat. “Actually, do you mind if I sleep now?” Cas asked.

Dean looked to him as he opened the refrigerator to put the pie in there. “Oh, sure, sure,” he said and closed it hurriedly.

“I’ve just had a long day and since you don’t need help-”

Dean started walking around the couch again to pick up the beer bottles. “Totally fine,” he interjected as he leaned over to pick them up, two in each hand, before he thought better of it and then put them back down, gesturing to the bedroom. He considered Cas was right, judging by their history they were going to need all the energy they had. “I’ll um-” He began to walk to the bedroom but Cas only followed him as far as the doorway. “I’ll get you some-” he muttered to himself as he found some clothes on the top of his dresser and picked them up, hoping that Cas hadn't sensed that he'd left them there on purpose - ready. He stopped a couple of steps from Cas when he remembered. “Oh,” he said and lowered his hands with a scoff. “I forgot you brought a bag, you won’t need-” He gestured to the clothes in his hands.

Cas recognized them as the clothes he’d worn every time he’d been here so far and he knew that, however strange it was, he looked forward to wearing Dean’s things. “I didn’t bring any nightwear,” he said.

“No?” Dean asked, confused.

“I didn’t think I’d need any,” he said and shrugged, gesturing to what Dean was holding. “I just assumed-”

“Oh, yeah,” Dean said and held them out. “Absolutely.” Cas took them. “Absolutely,” he repeated, finding himself oddly happy about that and let his hand fall to his sides again.

Cas hovered for a second as they stared at each other. “I’ll go to the bathroom,” he said and turned to do just that.

“Right,” Dean said and looked around his room before he hurried to change himself. He kept an eye on the doorway as he pushed his jeans off and then looked at himself in the mirror in just an old black t-shirt and white briefs before he looked around for pants to throw on.

In the bathroom Cas had hurried to change also, Dean had given him the t-shirt he’d borrowed when he’d left his house three months prior. He’d then folded his clothes and left them on top of the closed toilet, that was when he realized he’d needed to pee and held them in his left arm while he did just that, replacing them once he was finished. He went to the sink and, seeing his hair, washed his hands and set about fixing it, a little water aiding him. He swore to himself as he realized his toothbrush was in his bag and left the bathroom to find it.

He caught Dean looking for pants and he stopped just a step in the bedroom, Dean turning to look at him.

“I apologize,” Cas said. “I forgot my toothbrush.” He gestured to his bag.

“No, it’s uh-” Dean said, suddenly feeling naked, and gestured to Cas’ bag too. “Go ahead.” He felt the slight rush of blood southwards and cursed his idiotic lower-region brains for seeming to think that now was a good time to show enthusiasm.

Cas rummaged in it and then smiled and lifted it in a gesture before he turned and disappeared again.

“Dammit,” Dean said and looked down. “Stop being so interested,” he whispered to his own penis. “Off limits, for now at least.” He opened another drawer. “That’s the last thing I need, night-wood making things more awkward.”

Cas exhaled to himself as he closed the bathroom door behind him and went to the sink. He opened the medicine cabinet and put his hand out for the toothpaste. That’s when he noticed a new medicine bottle. He couldn’t help himself, he picked it up and glanced to the doorway before he turned it to read it.

He was worried, since Dean’s heat was late, that he was suppressing again. However, it was _Xanax_ prescribed to Dean not long after their last heat. Cas shook the bottle and estimated that it was half-empty or thereabouts. The bottle suggested that he was to take one tablet up to twice a day.

Cas put it back and looked to the other bottle, the familiar one, he picked it up but before he could read it he saw that the seal wasn’t broken so he put it back. Then he continued to get ready for bed, when he was coming out of the bathroom holding his clothes he paused noticing Dean standing leaning on the back of the sofa; he had pants on and the beer bottles were gone from the coffee table.

Dean turned to look over his shoulder at Cas. “Hey,” he said. “I was just gonna-” He gestured passed Cas into the bathroom.

“Of course,” Cas said and stepped to the side to allow Dean to pass him. “I hope,” he started and Dean stopped beside him, looking right at him, “you don’t feel that you have to go to bed too.”

“No,” Dean said. “No, I’ve been tired for days and, like you said, we’re gonna need the rest.” Cas nodded once, not sure he remembered saying those words and Dean smiled before he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him wondering if he’d actually thought those words instead of hearing them.

Cas walked through the living area and into the bedroom where he managed to carefully put his clothes back into his bag and then straightened up while Dean was washing his face. He walked back out into the living area and looked around himself, not sure what to do.

When Dean came out of the bathroom he was wiping toothpaste from his face and his eyes went straight to Cas as he pulled the door over a little. “Is everything alright?” Dean asked, confused.

“Do you have a comforter I could use?” he asked and when he gestured to the couch Dean looked to it.

He felt something in the pit of his stomach. “You want to sleep here,” he said, as if he should have known.

“You’re not on your heat,” Cas said.

Dean nodded and turned on the spot, walking towards the window of the apartment, there was a window seat and he lifted up its seat, revealing a compartment from which he pulled a purple comforter and let the lid fall closed.

He held it out to Cas. “I’ll get you a pillow,” he said.

Cas looked at his face, he looked sad and somehow disappointed. Cas slowly reached out for it and Dean’s hand fell quickly before he walked away, into his bedroom. Cas put the comforter on the couch and turned back as Dean emerged with a pillow from his bed and held it out.

“Dean,” Cas said as he took it, “you look upset, did I do something?”

“No, why would you think that?” Dean said, flatly. “G’night, Cas,” he said and smiled unconvincingly before he turned around and walked into the room. As he tried to close the door Cas had stepped towards it and put his left hand out, stopping it.

“Just because you’re not on your heat doesn’t mean you get to go back to not talking to me,” he said.

“But apparently it means we go back to acting like strangers,” Dean said and looked to him.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want-”

“Bullshit,” Dean said and looked away.

Cas nodded. “Okay,” he said and let his hand fall from the door as Dean looked at him again. “I’m scared,” Cas admitted, “of crossing a line with you, a line I didn’t see and watching you curl up into a protective ball again, pushing me away. Do I want to sleep on the couch? No.” He shook his head and Dean’s eyes roamed his face. “But if I assume, if I seem pushy will you just tell me what you want or will you kick out?”

Dean chewed it over. “I don’t know,” he said, softly. “But I don’t want you on the couch either.”

Cas took a step in the door, standing next to Dean and looking at him. “So why are we standing around out here?” he asked before he walked into the room and put his pillow back on the empty side of the bed.

“Maybe waiting for you to turn the TV off,” Dean said sarcastically and left the room to do just that and allowing himself a secret smile.

“It’s your TV, I don’t know how it works,” Cas protested and got into the bed, on the side nearest the door.

Dean walked into the room then closed the door while Cas’ eyes followed him as he fixed the pillows. Dean went to the window to pull the shade down, he paused to look at the sky but lately he’d felt too exposed with it up. Cas’ eyes moved to the other side of the bed, between it and the nightstand where he saw the handle of a baseball bat. The room was suddenly draped in darkness before Cas could confirm he’d seen what he thought he had and then Dean was climbing into bed beside him. Cas lay on his side facing Dean but Dean lay on his back, glancing to the door, unseen by Cas in the darkness.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Dean asked after a moments silence and then turned his head to Cas, pointlessly since neither could see yet. “What’s going on at work?”

Cas hesitated, thinking about the way Dean locked the door and the baseball bat as well as the tablets. “Nothing’s going on at work,” Cas said.

He heard Dean sigh. “Okay,” he said and turned away from Cas.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens in this chapter, I didn't realise how much until I was proof-reading. Lotta feelings, if you aren't up to that I'd maybe wait until you are. Just a heads up :)

A headache woke Dean so slowly that he was aware he was asleep way before he actually stopped being so. He rubbed his face on the soft fabric in front of him and wished it would rub the pain off. He’d been having more headaches recently but he figured they were down to the bottles of whiskey he’d been taking to bed. This time he’d gone to bed without the company and yet still woke up with what felt like a hangover.

And then he remembered that he hadn’t gone to bed totally alone.

He opened his eyes and only saw black. That was until he nudged his head back and blinked a few more times, and then he saw a khaki color. He looked up and saw Cas’ sleeping face around the same second that he’d regained awareness of his limbs and nerve endings.

He now realized that he was on his left side, head tucked into Cas’ chest while his arms were around Cas’ middle and his around Dean’s neck. Their bodies were pressed together and their legs crisscrossed, Cas’ left knee dangerously close to Dean’s testicles.

Dean moved his right hand from Cas’ side and moved it between them, trying to angle his hips further back in an attempt to protect his danger zone. The movement roused Cas enough that he tried to pull Dean to him as he shuffled closer, tightening his legs too and effectively trapped Dean’s hand between their hard penises.

The touch woke Cas who opened his eyes to Dean looking down and trying to free his hand without waking Cas.

“Crap,” Dean muttered to himself and then looked up, finding Cas staring at him. “Cas, uh-” He glanced down and cleared his throat. “This isn’t what it looks like.” Dean used his right leg, bending it to use his knee to push on Cas’ hip enough to free his hand. “I was-”

Cas closed his eyes again, still half-asleep. “Have you started your heat?” he asked, a croak still in his voice from sleep.

“No, I was trying to move your knee away from my nuts,” Dean said. “I wouldn’t just feel you up while you were asleep.”

Cas hummed. “I know,” he said. “I was just checking.” He sniffed and stilled, evidently going back to sleep and then realized he was holding Dean. “Oh,” he said and opened his eyes, moving away from Dean who let him, however discontent by it. “I apologize,” he said.

“It’s okay,” Dean said. “I was as much to blame.” He turned onto his back and exhaled, wishing he hadn’t woken him up and then feeling annoyed at himself for such blatant chick-flick feelings. He glanced to the clock, which told him that it was only six in the morning. “Yeah, screw that,” he muttered under his breath and turned on his right side again. A few minutes later he pulled the sheets up over his shoulders to compensate for the sudden coldness he felt.

Cas felt like he didn’t know what to do with his arms now, he wrapped them around his front and then just let them fall back to the mattress as he also tried to get back to sleep.

 

When Cas woke again it was lighter and, after turning around to check, the bed was empty.

When he dragged himself up and into the living room area he heard the shower running and had to swallow while trying to convince himself that it wasn’t a hard swallow and push the images out of his head.

He rubbed his bare arms, feeling a little chill, and looked around him. He’d never really noticed the various posters around the apartment before. On the wall to his left was a band poster that read _Kansas_ at the top and _Leftoverture_ at the bottom on a piece of white parchment. In the middle was an old man with a contemplative and mildly stressed expression, with his hand on the side of his head, as he wrote on pieces of parchment. He was surrounded by books, full parchment and a few scrunched up pieces. In the background a lit fireplace could be seen as well as another window even though he didn’t appear to be inside. A piano with its lid open could also be seen in the far background, over the man’s left shoulder. Cas considered his evident anxiety as he worked and felt like he sympathized.

He moved to the second poster on the wall and stopped to look at it.

It was a brown background with a white oval shape diagonally from the top let to the bottom right, interrupted by a posed sepia picture of ten people; seven standing at the back, two crouched and one sitting at the front. Above that it said ‘Led’ in orange, ‘Zepplin’ in pink and ‘II’ in black; it appeared to be sitting on a cloud the same color of the photograph, except that it was blue above the wording.

Cas felt like he recognized the name and turned to look back towards the bedroom doorway when the water in the bathroom was shut off. He walked back into the bedroom and looked at the poster above Dean’s bed. He didn’t remember ever looking at it but his brain must have been paying more attention than he had because, sure enough, on top of the poster there were the words _Led Zepplin_ in simple black letters above, what looked like, a set of crop circles vertically away from the camera with the shadow of a blimp sitting diagonally from top right to bottom left across the circles. At the bottom, in white letters, were the words _Travelling Riverside Blues_.

Dean walked to the bedroom doorway, seeing the door open, and stopped to watch Cas. “Whatcha doin’?” he asked.

Cas turned to look at him, his eyes drifting down Dean’s damp chest to where a towel clung to his hips for dear life. Cas cleared his throat and looked back to the poster. “I was admiring your posters,” he said and gestured outside. “I’ve never noticed them before.”

“Oh yeah,” Dean said and walked to stand beside Cas, looking above his bed. “It wasn’t their song,” he said. “It’s a cover of a Robert Johnson song, they said it was more of a tribute to him than a straight cover.”

Cas looked over the poster and then looked to Dean, who was looking at it like it was the first time he’d seen it, smiling. Cas smiled too.

“Do you like them?” he asked and when Dean looked at him he gestured to the poster. “Led Zepplin?”

“Like?” Dean asked, incredulously, and put his hand out. “One thing you have to understand, okay? It’s very important, so pay close attention.” Cas nodded, seriously. “Zepplin…” Dean raised his eyebrows as he said the next word, showing how serious he was. “Rules.” He closed his eyes tight. “ _Rules._ ” He looked to Cas again. “Okay?”

Cas looked confused. “They rule what?” he asked.

Dean paused. “No,” he said. “No, they _rule_ as in, are the best. Like, rule music.”

“Oh,” Cas said and nodded. “I see.” He looked back to the picture. “Zepplin rules,” he repeated softly to himself.

“Look,” Dean said and grabbed Cas’ hand to pull him into the living area and stopped in front of the second poster Cas had admired. “This album cover was inspired by a photo of a division of the German Air Force during World War I. They replaced the face with the four band members, their manager,” Dean was pointing, “their tour manager, the woman in it, that’s Glynis Johns – she was in _Batman_ -” Dean said, as if that explained everything. “And that guy there,” he pointed to one of the men standing up who Glynis had her arm around. “That was _supposed_ to be Neil Armstrong but they used Frank Borman instead, They did that twice.” He shook his head with a fond smile and Cas looked at him.

When Dean turned to look at him it was as if he was waiting for something.

“I-” Cas stuttered. “I don’t understand, why does that mean they rule?” he asked.

“Because it’s awesome!” Dean said and gestured to the poster. “You have to listen to them to get it but come on!” He looked over the poster and then slowly turned back to Cas, who was staring at him. “What?” he said and shrugged. “I like music, sue me.”

“How are you feeling?” Cas asked, looking down between them.

When Dean looked he realized he was still holding Cas’ hand and quickly let go. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m- I’m fine,” he said and when Cas looked up again he seemed concerned. “I don’t know what to tell ya, you can go if you want to-”

“I don’t want to,” Cas said.

“Well, do you want breakfast or something?” Dean asked, trying to move away from the subject before Cas changed his mind.

“I was going to shower first, if that’s okay?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Dean said.

“If you want to make anything I won’t take long,” Cas said.

Dean shrugged, looking to the poster. “Take your time,” he said. “I’ll wait.”

“I won’t be long, it’s quite cold,” Cas explained.

“Yeah?” Dean asked and suddenly realized his nipples were solid. “Shoulda showered with me.” He winked and walked away into the bedroom to get dressed.

Cas hovered a second before he walked away to the bathroom, wishing Dean had woken him up to do just that.

Dean looked to the poster above his bed as he dressed, thinking about the first time he’d heard the song and when he’d bought the poster. He had a sudden urge to listen to the album that the single was eventually put onto -  _Coda -_  and put it on the stereo in the living room as he made breakfast.

It was barely twenty seconds before Dean was singing and dancing around the kitchen, wincing a few times as he stretched too far, so much so that he completely missed Cas leaving the bathroom minutes later and going to the bedroom to dress but Cas watched him with barely concealed amusement as he dried his hair before he dressed.

He then walked into the living room and watched Dean flip something in the air and turn on the spot. He caught Cas’ shape as he spun and stopped dead, looking at Cas.

“Do you get some kick outta watching me cook?” he asked and turned back to the stove, his cheeks flushing.

“No,” Cas said and walked across the room to join him, “but I like listening to you sing.” He looked over Dean’s left shoulder to the pan. “And I like how happy you are when you’re doing it.” Dean looked to him. Cas looked down between them. “Apologies,” Cas said and put a step between them.

Dean looked to the movement and then to Cas. “That was the album,” he gestured his head behind him. “The one above the bed.”

“I confess I wasn’t listening,” Cas said.

“Cas,” Dean said with an exasperated sigh as he moved food around the pan, “coming here is like going to church, you pay attention when the hymns are being blasted.”

Cas replayed Dean's words, first realizing it was some elaborate simile, and then trying to follow it through. He then slowly nodded, still unsure. “Right,” he said. “If you want to put the album back on I’ll-”

“Nah, nah,” Dean said, waving his left hand in the air dismissively. “You can’t force it, it needs to come to you.” He turned the heat down. “It took me years of education, some you get right away and some you have to build up over time.”

Cas just looked at him and watched Dean lift his left hand, putting the back of it to his forehead and then replacing it on the plastic spatula. Cas put his right hand on Dean’s forehead and Dean looked to him.

“You’re hot,” Cas stated.

“Gee thanks,” Dean said with a smirk and Cas huffed as he put his hand to Dean’s neck. He watched his eyes close and his chest heave as he inhaled and then exhaled slowly, it looked like relief and Dean couldn’t disagree, Cas touching him was a relief but not for the reason he knew Cas was thinking.

“Are you-?” Cas ran the back of his hand up the side of Dean’s neck, towards the start of his jaw.

“No,” Dean said but tilted his head away from Cas a little, to give him the access he needed to touch him properly. “Not yet.”

Cas wasn’t buying it, the way Dean was reacting was sheer relief and as far as Cas was concerned there could be only one reason for that. And he wasn’t about to walk away from an excuse to touch Dean, to be near him.

Cas stepped towards him and let his hand turn and run his fingers through the back of Dean’s hair, Dean seemed to tense as Cas brought his face close to Dean’s neck. “Are you certain?” Cas asked and let Dean feel the hot air from his mouth ghost over his skin as he followed the path his hand had previously taken up Dean’s neck. “You’re reacting to my touch.”

Dean exhaled shallowly, his breathing having almost stopped and his eyes staying closed, he could hear his heart beat in his ears, his hands had stilled and their breakfast was getting a little too much heat on one side. Dean wanted nothing more than Cas to pick up from where they left off but he seemed intent on waiting for Dean’s heat, and Dean wasn’t about to lie to him.

“I-” Dean said and realized how easy it would be to just tell him otherwise, to say he was on his heat and then be able to reach for him, to only have to look a little uncomfortable before Cas would come to him, touch him and kiss him. But he really didn’t want to start down that path. He wouldn’t let himself go there. So he opened his eyes and tried to breathe again. “No, I’m not.” Cas pulled back and Dean turned his head to look at him. “I’m not on my heat, yet.”

Cas’ eyes dropped to Dean’s lips for a split second before he looked away. “Then I apologize,” Cas said and then let his hand fall from Dean’s hair, “again.”

Dean’s mouth opened when he registered the disappointed look on Cas’ face and he wasn’t sure if he was disappointed because Dean wasn’t on his heat yet and therefore he didn’t want to touch him or – the crazy notion dared to run through Dean’s head that, just maybe, Cas wanted what he did – that he was disappointed because it meant he wasn’t _allowed_ to yet.

As Cas stepped away from him, passed the refrigerator Dean turned on the spot, his left hand holding the pan handle and his right with the spatula in the air. “You don’t have to wait, you know?” Cas stopped with his body facing the closet beside the balcony window and looked at Dean. “For my heat. If you don’t want to.” When Cas didn’t say anything and his eyes moved to the bathroom door as he thought about it Dean hesitantly put his head down, turned back to the pan and tried to save the slightly singed food in front of him, knowing that there would be no chance to save his dignity after that.

Cas continued walking away and went out onto the balcony, regretting it as soon as he got out there since it was raining and the wind was blowing it towards him and onto the windows, it had evidently just started since the window was relatively dry but it was quickly getting heavier. Regret it he might he couldn't bring himself to turn and go back inside. So he just stared out across the city, not really paying it any attention, thinking about what Dean had just said. He wasn’t sure if Dean wanted him to touch him or if he was perhaps being too pushy. He swallowed and let his mind run, thinking about it all, while a face popped into his head. But it wasn’t years ago or a reflection in a mirrored wall of an elevator it was just yesterday and it was standing beside him. Or was it waiting in the backseat of his car, ready to pounce and drag him back to who he really was.

He hugged his arms and closed his eyes as the water hit his face, stopping it from going in his eyes.

Dean just stood at the stove scolding himself and softly hitting his head off of the vent, a low, hollow metallic thud resounding every time.

 

They didn’t say another word to each other all the way through breakfast and into the afternoon, the only conversation was when Dean was opening his old mail then muttered to himself that he needed to get his new mail from downstairs and Cas offered to go for him. He was glad for the few minutes away from the tension but when he came back up he looked around for Dean as he pushed the door closed behind him and put the mail on the top shelf beside the opened mail. Dean was nowhere to be seen until Cas realized he was lying down on the couch with his hands in his hair and his eyes closed.

“Dean?” Cas asked and leaned on the back of the couch until Dean looked at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Cas,” Dean said, sadly, with an exhale as he sat up on the couch and rubbed a hand through his hair before letting them both fall. It had been obvious to Dean how eager Cas had been to get out of the apartment, even if it were just to grab the mail from downstairs. He'd lain back on the cushions and wondered what in the world possessed him to say those words to Cas, to attempt to alter the paradigm they had only recently set up. More than that, what had made him think that Cas could possibly do anything other than ignore his words and walk away? He hadn't expected Cas to come back so quickly and, truth be told, he just wanted to lie there on the couch until it all made sense again. He blamed the confusion on his hormones, they screwed everything up. He'd be damned if they were going to screw this up for him and yet something in him couldn't drop the feeling that he wasn't crazy, that Cas was as on edge as he was.

Cas inhaled and walked to the fridge, opening it to look inside.

Suddenly the front door opened and they both turned to look as a guy walked in, he had a mouse-brown mullet, was holding an open laptop in one hand, wore a sleeveless plaid shirt over a camouflage t-shirt with a skull and cross bones swinging from a long necklace around his neck. He had jeans loose around his waist where a beat up shoulder bag hit with every step he took, it was heavy with another laptop.

“Ola, bitches,” he said as he stopped at the kitchen table, pulling the flap of his bag open as he spoke. “Your brother wanted- well, I say your brother I mean Charlie but Sam asked me,” he looked between Dean and Cas as he spoke and tried to take a laptop out of his bag while continuing to hold the other, “on her behalf. For the database?” He gestured to Cas questioningly who just looked at Dean for help and when the newcomer looked at Dean he saw the same confusion. “She didn’t tell you yet?”

When Dean shook his head the man looked to Cas again who hesitantly shook his head too.

“Well,” he continued as he pulled the second laptop out of his bag, “she’s building a database that can predict or at least _help_ predict areas we should be looking for the big bad wolf.” He lifted the laptop in a gesture. “It’s an awesome idea actually, we input the data of the person or persons we’re chasing down, the program gives us places or people to start with, possibly cutting down the chase down by a projected fifty-four percent.” Cas raised his eyebrows. “I gotta jet, got a job in Canada, you know what the Bounty-Monties are like when they have to bring in Statesides so I’ll be gone for a while. Can you give this to Sam?” He gestured to the laptop as he put it down on the table. “Or Red, whoever you see first. Code's too big for a stick so-” He closed his bag but didn’t attempt to close or put his other laptop away as he headed for the door. “Gotta go, amigos, got a one way ticket to Cowtoon.” He opened the door and gave a reverse peace sign as he left. “Peace!” He closed the door behind him.

Cas just looked at Dean who stood up and looked to him as he headed to the door. “That’s Ash,” Dean said as locked the door then pulled then chain across.

“I forgot to-” Cas said.

“S’fine,” Dean said and Cas watched him double check the lock. “Ash is another hunter.”

“He saw me,” Cas said.

“Yeah, he did,” Dean said and walked back towards the couch, as he sat down he saw Cas looking at him worriedly. “Don’t worry,” Dean sat down, “he thinks you’re another hunter.”

“Right,” Cas said and closed the fridge door. “I didn’t know American FRAs could work across the border.” He walked towards the couch.

“We can’t,” Dean said. “Ash can.” He looked to Cas as he sat down, his confused expression focused on Dean who really didn’t like the amount of space between them. “Normal people, they have regulations, we do our job in our jurisdiction, it’s dictated on our license. We have to apply for permission from bondsmen if we cross those lines. Ash isn’t normal people, Ash is a genius, forces all over the world want his help. He spent three months in Siberia last year.”

“Hunting who?”

“A gang of cyber-terrorists. Well, he spent three weeks hunting them, the rest was red tape.” Dean rubbed his face tiredly wondering where the hell his heat was.

“Did he catch them?” Cas asked.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded and then chuckled a bit. “Oh yeah, Ash catches ‘em all.”

Cas nodded to himself and settled next to Dean on the couch while they both turned their attentions to the TV.

 

They barely moved from the TV that afternoon, both of them equally uncomfortable with each other. Dean willed his heat to hurry up and Cas, as much as he didn’t want Dean to be in pain, wished for the same. However, when Dean’s favorite TV show came on he seemed to relax, if his body language was any indication as he started to slouch a little.

“Liar!” he blurted out at one point, in response to one of the characters, and then looked to Cas who turned to look at him. Dean’s face slowly grew embarrassed and he looked away. “Sorry,” he said.

“It’s alright,” Cas said. “Why is he a liar?”

Dean exhaled a soft laugh and smiled bashfully. “You don’t have to act like you care, we can change it.” He lifted the remote and pointed it at the TV.

“No,” Cas said and put his hand out to Dean's elevted one, and Dean paused to look at him. “Don’t, I do care, I like it.”

“Really?” Dean asked.

Cas was more enamored with the way Dean seemed to enjoy it but he knew that if he told Dean that that he’d insist that they change it, the same way that he stopped singing whenever Cas was listening.

“Yes,” Cas said and smiled.

Dean smiled back gently and they continued to look at each other.

Cas realized he was till touching Dean and the idea that he was being too forceful reappeared and so his smile fell as his hand did.

Dean's own fell and he also lowered his hand, dropping the remote back on the couch beside him. “Okay,” he said.

“I’m not sure I understand what is happening,” Cas said. “Are they together romantically?” He gestured to the characters on the screen.

“Hell, even they have no idea,” Dean said. “They started sleeping together in the last se- This is only season two. They started sleeping together- He’s her boss-”

“What are their names?” he asked as the characters moved away from each other and the camera moved on to follow others.

Dean picked up the remote and rewound it so that he could pause it on the other two. “That is Dr Wang, she’s the sexy yet arrogant heart surgeon. He’s Dr Paul Hare, she’s a surgical intern and he’s not her boss, he’s her boss’ boss.” Cas looked up and then nodded as he understood. Dean looked to him and decided to explain. “This lot are the surgical interns, they answer to the resident and the residents answer to the attendings who then answer to the chief of surgery. Get it?”

Cas nodded slowly. “Yes, I think so,” he said. “He’s an attending and she’s the intern but there’s someone in between.” Dean nodded. “So, why is he a liar?”

“Because she was pregnant with his baby but she lost it, he just said she never hurt him when she didn’t tell him but she did, he’s just trying to protect her.”

“And why is that a bad thing?” Cas asked.

Dean chuckled. “She won’t thank him for it and it’ll all backfire on him, you watch, they’ll be at blows by the end of the episode.”

He pressed play on the remote and pointed as it rolled forward over the camera transition they’d already seen and moved on to follow a smaller, slightly sever looking woman.

“That’s Dr Daily, the resident, the one in between,” Dean said.

“And she’s Dr Wang’s boss but under Dr Hare?” Cas asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said with a small smile and then pointed to another character on the screen. “Chief of surgery, Dr Williams. He’s just always tired, man.”

“In what way?” Cas asked.

He halfheartedly shrugged. “I don’t know, he just seems to- I imagine him as being young and bright, ready to save people and climb to chief but by the time he got there he was disillusioned and tired.” He shrugged again. “Not that I’ve given it much thought.”

Cas watched him and then looked back to the screen as there was a female voice-over.

“That’s Dr Ellen Picalo,” Dean said. “She’s the main character- There!” He pointed to a woman as she ran through the halls after a code-call. “The sexy but earnest intern, she’s in a relationship with Dr Sexy- Well!” Cas looked to him as he raised his eyebrows. “Who knows if they are anymore.”

“Trouble?” Cas asked.

Dean nodded. “Yeah, so much going on between them. He-” He turned to look at Cas. “Are you sure you want me tell you all of this?”

“Why not?” Cas asked.

“Well, I mean, it’s just trashy TV and even if you were really interested-”

“I am,” Cas insisted.

“I could lend you the DVDs and that way you don’t have to listen to me going on,” Dean said.

“I like listening to you,” Cas said and Dean looked at him. Cas looked back to the TV briefly, feeling slightly abashed by that, and then to Dean. “Couldn’t we watch from the beginning?” he asked.

Dean paused a second and then his eyebrows lowered as he looked at Cas confused. “Are you serious?”

“Why not?” Cas said. “You have the DVDs and we’ve got time.”

Dean hesitated. “Well-” He lifted his right hand up and rubbed the back on his neck. “I guess- The first season is only nine episodes, I suppose.” He looked to Cas who nodded and watched as a smile seemed to stretch on Dean’s face almost without his permission, as if he couldn’t help it. “Okay,” he said, he got up off of the couch, walked to the TV unit and opened the doors before he got down on his knees. Cas watched him move things around and lean into the cupboard as he looked for the DVDs, Cas assumed, and his eyes burned as he watched the way Dean’s pants stretched over the curve of his buttocks.

Cas swallowed as he watched him, thinking about what Dean had said at breakfast. Every part of him wanted to get up, walk over there and drag him to the floor with him. He let himself think about it while Dean muttered under his breath.

Cas looked to the TV quickly when Dean began to back out of the unit and held up the DVD with raised eyebrows. “Always right at the back,” Dean said and then leaned to the side of the TV where his inserted the disc into the in-built player. He dropped the box onto the table as he rounded it and put his right hand on the back of the couch as he sat down. Cas noticed that he was closer than he had been but didn’t see Dean slide his hand along the back of the couch as he lowered his weight, leaving Cas only at elbows-length from him. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to go on,” Dean said as they waited for the DVD to load, he let his right hand come up and cup the side of his head as he looked to the screen.

“You weren’t,” Cas said. “You seem to be passionate about it.”

Dean chuckled nervously. “It’s a guilty pleasure, I guess,” he said.

“You get this light in your eyes when you’re passionate or enjoy something,” Dean’s eyes moved to him, “like when you sing, and I don’t think it’s anything you should ever be embarrassed about. Whether it’s music or trashy TV, not if it gives you that look in your eyes, it’s-” Cas looked to him. “It’s quite attractive.”

Dean turned his head to look at him. “Yeah?” he asked, not taking his eyes from Cas as the menu loaded and began to play the titles over and over again, waiting for the viewer to choose an option.

“Yes,” Cas said in a low tone and neither of them looked away.

Cas’ eyes dropped to Dean’s lips as his jaw lowered a little and his philtrum stretched just before his tongue poked out and wet his bottom lip. When he pulled his tongue back in his mouth stayed open a little. Cas let himself look up to Dean’s eyes, which seemed to be surveying his face in darting and unsure motions.

Cas might not have had much experience but Dean’s eyes, while sharp on him, had softened somehow. He even tilted his head a little, which Cas couldn’t help but read in a passively pleading manner. What he was asking for Cas could only guess and he hoped he was right as he leaned forward and, leaning to the right, kissed him. He was surprised when he noticed Dean nudge forward to meet his lips. Cas was the one who pulled away and was met with Dean, mouth agape, looking from his eyes to his lips with a definite question on his brow.

Cas wasn’t sure if the question was about why he’d done that or why he’d stopped. Either way, he looked to the coffee table and then his hands as he stood up, Dean looking up at him as he did.

“Cas-” He leaned forward as Cas walked away, rounding the couch.

“Uh air,” Cas said and pointed to the balcony as he headed for it. “Just going to get- get air.” He slightly hit his head as he dipped his upper body to step out of the window and onto the balcony.

“Okay,” Dean said and then let himself sit back heavily against the back of the couch with a quick exhale before his face tensed to confusion. “ _He_ kissed _me_?” he asked himself while the DVD menu kept playing. “Why would he-?” He let out a soft grunt as he let his head fall back to the cushion too and brought his hands up to cover his face. “Dammit, I don’t understand,” he said quietly to himself.

He tried to make sense of everything that had happened since Cas had turned up, everything that was said and not said.

Cas stood on the balcony looking out at the street below without really seeing it and on the verge of tears. He couldn’t think of any real reason he was out on this ledge or why he’d ran away from Dean. He’d say it was because Dean wasn’t on his heat but he felt like he knew now that that wasn’t an issue, for either of them. He might even say that he didn’t want to cross any lines but then he couldn’t name any lines to cross. There weren’t any – he wanted Dean and it seemed clear that Dean wanted him.

The truth was, working with Samandriel had shook him and he didn’t like that he was allowing the two to cross in his mind. He didn’t want to dirty these waters with that of his past.

Dean had been going through everything and decided there was no going back, he wasn’t going to let it all just lie in the air between them and pretend like nothing had happened - he couldn't - because if this was how the next however many days until his heat came up were going to be like then he wasn’t going to be able to stand it. Either he knew right now what Cas wanted or he was going to go crazy wondering if he could touch him or not. If he didn’t want to then that was his choice, it would suck but he’d respect it – he just had to know.

He’d worked himself into such a frenzy that by the time Cas turned to come back in Dean was practically shaking and bounded up, he started to barf every thought he had on the subject before he’d even walked to where Cas was struggling to get in the window.

“Look, I don’t understand what’s going on with my heat,” Dean stopped beside Cas who was midway through coming in the window and who paused to look up at him before he continued his movements, “why it’s not here yet but-” He put his hands out when Cas stumbled but didn’t make contact. “And maybe I should call my doctor, you know, just to be sure-”

Cas pulled at his t-shirt as he stood looking at Dean, looking mildly blindsided.

“I already told you that you don’t have to wait, I said that and I meant it,” Cas looked down to his right so Dean dipped his head to his left to follow it,” and that’s- That’s fine, Cas, really fine if you don’t wanna touch me before my heat,” Cas looked up again, “if that’s what you want. Really, it is. As long as you know it’s not what I want.” He looked up as he inhaled. “I mean,” he nodded, “if that’s what you want then that’s what I want but I’m just sayin’,” he looked to Cas, “that if it were up to me- Not that it’s not up to me, it’s up to both of us, I just mean-”

“Dean, what are you trying to say?”

“Jesus, Cas, I’m horny!” he shouted and exhaled. “For- For you. I don’t need some tri-monthly hormone-hike to tell me that I didn’t want you to stop kissing me at the door and earlier when you were trying to see if I was on my heat, in the kitchen-” He shook his head. “Damn, that nearly killed me. You don’t know how hard it was not to just say- pretend I was on my heat and get what I wanted.”

“What did you want?” Cas asked.

Dean looked right at him for a second and exhaled again. “You, Cas. Chistsakes, you. I’ve been going nuts waiting for this heat just to- not even to jump you just to stop all this weird awkwardness and just-” Dean exhaled, his words starting to slow as he calmed. “Just to- to touch you. Not that I wouldn’t say not to more.” He chuckled bashfully but quickly stopped it, telling himself now was not the time to be flippant. He swallowed and looked down a little before he looked up again with his eyes closed, to the side, too embarrassed to look at him as he said, “I want you, Cas.”

“You do?” Cas asked.

Dean’s eyes opened immediately and he looked at Cas disbelievingly. “Yeah!” He smiled at him for a second and saw the slight narrowing of Cas’ eyes. Dean thought they’d thoroughly established that Dean wanted him, in and out of his heat. He thought they had.  His smile fell. He’d thought. “But you don’t-”

“No, Dean-” Cas said, taking a step towards him.

Dean shook his head and stepped back, to his right. “It’s fine, Cas. Don’t um, don’t worry,” he said.

“But Dean-” Cas stepped again and reached out for Dean’s arm.

Dean lifted it away and took a step aback, putting his hand to his neck and scratching it “It- Forget it,” Dean said and turned away. “I can- I’ll just do some work or-” He began to walk towards the one room in the house that Cas hadn’t been in.

Cas went after him. “Dean, stop!” Cas said as he grabbed his upper arm and turned him, holding him tight but as Dean turned he felt Cas’ hold loosen, Cas had only grabbed him to stop him moving and now he wasn’t going to hold him in a tight vice. Not Cas.

“I told you it’s fine,” Dean said.

Cas stepped forward again and kissed him but Dean pushed him away and lifted his right arm up to point at Cas. “Don’t!” he said. “You don’t do that!” He shook his head. “Not to me.”

Cas paused. “I- I’m sorry, I just- You said you wanted me and-”

Dean stepped forward, more into Cas’ space. Cas wasn't sure if he read pain or anger in Dean's eyes but he wasn't entirely convinced it couldn't be both either. “And you don’t want me and I told you that’s fine. But don’t do that, don’t just do what I want.”

“I’m not,” Cas said, his hand moving from Dean’s arm and lifting, Dean’s eyes moving to watch it as he cupped under Dean’s chin. He leaned and spoke in a whisper while Dean watched him watching Dean’s lips, as he spoke he dragged the pad of his thumb over Dean’s bottom lip so that he felt every puff of air at the parting. “Can’t you tell?” His eyes flickered up to Dean’s and his countenance changed from determined to quietly hurt with the mere tense of the middle of his brow as it dipped slightly. “Why can’t you see it?”

But Dean did see it, and so he leaned forward, feeling Cas’ thumb softly trail down his chin as he did so, and kissed him. Cas hummed as he brought his falling hand up to the side of Dean’s face and Dean grunted long and slow, in relief.

Cas pulled out of the kiss enough to talk as Dean moved to his neck. “Dean, I don’t want to push you-”

Dean lifted his head, bringing his lips close to Cas’ left ear. “Push all you want,” he said in a cocky voice and Cas’ mouth opened a little as Dean pushed his left hand against Cas’ crotch, rubbing hard. He chuckled when faint groan escaped Cas’ lips “I push back.”

Cas’ jaw tightened and Dean’s eyes opened in surprise as he found himself literally pushed back two steps until his back collided with the door to his office. It rattled under the pressure but didn’t give and Dean’s head hit off of it when Cas resumed kissing him but neither of them noticed nor cared.

They were pulling at each other with such urgency, hands cupping heads and shoulders then sides and hips, trying to get closer, get more. When Cas pulled Dean’s hip to him Dean thrust against him in response and Cas moaned into Dean’s mouth. The door handle was rubbing into Dean’s left hip with every thrust but he didn’t even notice, the only thing he had mental space for was those hips, those hands and those lips. The just couldn’t stop rubbing against each other, there was no plan nor any desire to change what they were doing or move from their slightly awkward angle.

Cas could feel the heat from the friction as their pants provided the needed traction for their now hard dicks to slide against each other. He felt himself getting short of breath so when Dean had to break away to groan he inhaled as deep as he could.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked.

“Yes, I think I forgot to breathe,” Cas said, already searching for Dean’s lips again.

Dean smiled as they kissed and then mumbled, “Pretty important,” he groaned as he kissed Cas again, his forehead tensing. “Feel like- Gonna explode.” He pulled Cas’ hip in. “Don’t stop.”

Cas swallowed. “I’ll cum,” he said in a hushed tone, unsure if he should admit it or not.

“Uh-huh,” Dean said and used his hand to take Cas’ and put it on his lower thigh, pressing it tightly there.

Cas took what he thought was a hint and lifted Dean’s leg to sit against his hip and allowed them more direct contact as they thrust against each other, both of them moaning and mumbling in response to the new angle. Cas pulled Dean’s leg towards him, making his hips pull away from the wall but Dean did nothing to change this, instead he just went with it and rode the feeling until he started cuming. Cas kissed him hard, literally eating it up as he licked Dean’s bottom lip as he kissed him, as if trying to consume every groan and whimper.

Dean’s mouth agape and somewhat unresponsive as he came down from his high. It was then, as his mind started to clear, that he felt Cas’ large dick straining, even in Cas’ loose pants, but, knowing alphas are biologically built by nature to be bigger, he didn’t feel small. In fact, he felt spurred on knowing that he’d brought pleasure to every inch of it and as Cas couldn’t kiss him anymore, through moaning and labored breathing, he felt a surge of lust knowing that he was doing it again.

“Cas-” Dean said, feeling his own semen pressed against his dick and underwear, in Cas’ ear. “Am I gonna make you cum?”

“Y- Yes,” Cas said, his throat tight.

“Just me?” Dean asked, sounding somewhat insecure.

“Yes, Dean. Yes, B- Baby, I’m going to cum-” He inhaled short and quick while trying to keep his hips moving. “I’m-” His grip on Dean’s thigh and hip tightened as he tensed up, groaning, and came in his pants calling Dean’s name. Dean grunted when he heard it, pushed against Cas who pulsed with over-stimulation.

They both slowly quietened, leaving only their labored breathing but keeping their eyes closed as Cas leaned to rest his nose against the right side of Dean’s.

“That was-” He exhaled.

“Yeah,” agreed Dean.

“Maybe if I’d masturbated-” Cas mused.

Dean smiled. “I’ve been waiting two days for that, it was always gonna be a sprint not a marathon.

Cas moved back and opened his eyes, looking at Dean who opened his own eyes in response. However, neither said anything.

A few seconds went by before Dean looked down and Cas let his thigh go. “Um,” Cas said and stepped back, “I should- I should clean up.” He cleared his throat before he turned and walked towards the bathroom.

“Okay…” Dean said and watched him retreating wondering if, again, he’d said the wrong thing. He stood there for a second while Cas stood at the sink and leaned on it, seemingly unaware that he hadn’t pulled the door closed. Dean watched him lean his hands on the edge of the sink and let his head hang, swinging his hips out.

Dean wondered what was going through his head at that moment, what everything meant. He’d told Cas that he hadn’t needed to wait for his heat and then they’d ended up here, doing what they had with such desperation that Dean had fooled himself into thinking that Cas wanted Dean as much as he had wanted Cas. He narrowed his eyes as Cas brought his trembling right hand up to his forehead and rubbed it, Dean caught him breathing deeply and deliberately and he suddenly thought he understood: it wasn’t that Cas didn’t want him, it was that he wanted him too much and it scared him.

Well, screw that.

Dean walked into the bathroom, Cas looking up to him as he closed the door over behind him but he didn’t look at Cas as he stood in front of the shower cubicle and removed his clothing one by one, throwing each piece into the washing basket in the corner of the room, between the sink and the toilet. Cas turned his head to look at him and then, when Dean turned his head to him, he looked back to the sink but couldn’t stop himself from looking at him in the mirrored cabinet above the sink.

Dean licked his lips as he turned the water on and paused, pulling his underwear, which already had a dark patch at the front, away from his hips and looked to the source. He looked at his rapidly softening dick and the mess around it. He was still looking at the semen when he started speaking, “You remember when I said you shoulda showered with me?” He looked up and into the mirror, making it obvious that he’d known Cas was looking the entire time.

“Yes?” Cas said, keeping eye contact.

“Well…” Dean leaned to take his boxers off and then threw them in the corner. “The offer stills stands.” He looked back to the mirror and winked before he stepped inside, leaving the door open.

Cas watched him; he lowered his head and seemed to be washing away his semen before he wiped the water from his face and tilted his head backwards under the spay, essentially covering it in water again but also allowing the flow to carry on down his back. Cas looked down, feeling that his penis had barely had time to relax before its interest had been peaked again.

And then he registered the words he’d heard but not quite listened to:

“I’ve been waiting two days for that...”

Cas pulled at his sweatpants and kicked them to the corner, looking at Dean as he pulled every other piece of clothing off before Dean had even wiped the water from his eyes. He turned his head when Cas stepped into the cubicle and closed the door without looking away from his face.

“You’re not in heat,” Cas said matter-of-factly, however Dean could hear the tension in his voice; desire restrained.

Dean turned on the spot, the water hitting his back and some of it snaking around the fronts of his thighs and over his feet while his nipples began to harden in the chilled air.

“I wasn’t the first time we had sex either,” Dean pointed out, having enough of dancing around him when all he wanted to do was everything he could think of. “You’re allowed to want something, Cas.” His eyes darted over Cas’ face. “Does it scare you, that you want me?”

“How do you know that I want you?” Cas asked, his eyes would be narrowed if his heart didn’t feel like it was beating a hundred times faster than it should be. This all felt such dangerous territory and Cas’ conditioned instinct was to put as much distance between himself and this situation as possible but that also meant putting as much distance between himself and Dean too and… He’d waited three months to be this close.

“You’ve told me. It’s written all over your face,” Dean said and then paused while Cas’ breath caught in his throat. “But I can see it in your eyes.”

“I-” Cas’ voice croaked and he stopped to swallow hard, trying to fix that. “I- I haven’t had anything written on my face in years,” he said, looking at Dean like he was some mythical creature or had told him _he_ was one. “I’ve always been told that I’m unreadable.”

“Maybe you’ve just been in another language,” Dean said. “One that no one could understand before.”

Before.

Cas could almost hear that word echo in his head. In that one word there was so much implied that Cas almost had to put his hand out to the tile to stop himself from stumbling. It implied that there had been some change or transition; that they were in a different phase from when he’d run into Dean again. Maybe even the first time. But either way, Cas felt his life being split up into chunks and he sensed a shift in his mind as he had to admit to himself that the man he was at the beginning of this was a different man that stood in his skin now. He could deny that but he’d only be lying to himself. He’d have to tell himself that Dean wasn’t right, that he wasn’t different than everyone else, that he wasn’t different around Dean, that he wasn’t the only person in the entire world that made him feel like this. Like who he was wasn’t something to control or apologize for.

There was no doubt that Dean was still terrified of his heats and the things it did to his body and mind and Cas was equally scared of what he was capable of and what his biology wanted from him but looking at Dean now it was clear that no amount of apprehension or uncertainty would pull him away. Additionally, the way Dean was looking back and standing his ground told Cas he wasn’t the only one of them feeling that their fears were worth facing for what was right in front of them right now.

“Yes, I’m scared,” Cas said after the tense silence, during which Dean just waited for his answer seeing no other option he wanted to take. “But I don’t know which terrifies me more – that I want you so much or that it’s so obvious.”

Dean’s head nudged back a little as his eyes moved over Cas’ face and neck, his tongue poking out to wet his lip and he tasted water on them. He could see Cas’ own gaze going from one eye to the other continually, perhaps looking for an answer to that in them rather than reassurance.

“You don’t have to be scared of either,” Dean said. “We are who we are, we want what or _who_ we want and that’s okay.”

Cas seemed to contemplate Dean for a few moments again and Dean was getting used to Cas’ long stares and so he didn’t break it. Finally, Cas took a step towards Dean and then stopped. “It’s okay?” he asked and Dean knew what he was really asking: is what we’re about to do okay?

Dean wasn’t in heat but they could excuse one lust-fueled moment like they’d had in the living area as a build-up from a delayed heat. But to continue this would be crossing a line, this would be nudged into something different than what they’d been doing so far, it would be a stone-cold, hormone-sober decision and action. Dean’s mind briefly compared it to the difference between crime of passion and pre-meditation. But then he tied to shake it off; he didn’t want to think of crime, cons and cases at this moment, they weren’t even in the same world.

“How else can I say it, Cas?” Dean said. “Kiss me.”

Cas hesitated but shifted on his feet before he stepped forward and slowly moved in, putting his hands on Dean’s bare waist, and kissed Dean with force enough to nudge his head under the spray. They pulled apart and looked at each other.

“S’okay,” Dean said softly and Cas leaned back into him, kissing him with more confidence that time.

Both of them had completely forgotten what was left of the mess between them, considering instead how it felt to finally being able to do this, to have the other’s weight pressed calmly against them; it felt good, reassuring, electrifying even but definitely natural. As if the tension of the last couple of days wasn’t resolved when they came but rather when they touched like this.

Cas pushed against Dean who hummed in surprise and pulled out of the kiss. “Cas-” he said.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said, pulling back and looking down. “I know I shouldn’t have done that, I got caught up-”

“Cas,” Dean said, making him look up at him, “the soap-dish is slicing into my back, that’s all.” He stepped to the side, taking Cas with him, more under the spray. When Cas just looked at him and then to the soap-dish Dean leaned to look at him. “Hey,” Cas looked back to him, “back to what we were doing?” He gestured between them in the air.

Cas took Dean’s hands and moved them around to his back where he pressed Dean’s to his skin before he kissed him again, pushing him against the tile. When Dean’s hand trailed his side Cas wondered what they were doing; they’d just came together so Cas could safely assume that that’s not where they were heading, not unless they stayed here for a little while (long enough to give him time to recover), so what were they doing? Well, they’d come into this room to clean up but instead they were kissing aimlessly and touching casually, as if they had all the time in the world.

Dean pulled back and looked at him, considering him for a second before he asked, “Where’s your head?” without anger or frustration.

“Here,” Cas replied.

Dean looked at him for a few moments. “Then why does it feel like you’re a million miles away?” he asked, somewhat fondly.

Cas’ eyes narrowed, this was all wrong: an omega due to enter into heat should be wound up, on edge and easily angered or hurt. Dean should be annoyed by Cas’ absent behavior, offended even.

“Are you sure you calculated your heat correctly?” Cas asked.

“Yeah?” Dean said. “I even asked my doc when I last saw her. She said it’s a give-or-take deal.”

“What does that mean?” Cas felt his nipples softening a little as the shower was filling with steam, Dean getting most of the direct touch by the water.

“Just ‘cause my heat was screwed up it’s not precise so it coulda been a couple of days early or a couple late.” Dean leaned forward and kissed Cas, thinking they’d carry on what they were doing but neither closed their eyes and Cas barely kissed back. Dean did it again, just to check, and when it happened again he pulled right back and looked at Cas. “Cas, what the hell is going on?” But Cas just stared at him. “Hey, if it’s ‘cause I’m not on my heat then you’re welcome to go into the living room and wait, man.” He gestured. “Or you can go home, don’t wanna keep you.” He pushed Cas gently but enough to make him take a step back and their hands fell from each other.

“I’m just very confused,” Cas said, softly as if in a trance, and turned to his right to face the wall, leaning on his right hand.

“Why?” Dean asked, turning slightly to his left. “Like I said, we’ve done this outta heat before!”

“It’s not that,” Cas replied. “Trying to find a balance between letting go and being cautious is extremely difficult.”

“Cautious of what?” Dean asked.

“Of being inappropriate,” Cas answered. “I’ve had to teach myself things other people seem to just know, like colloquialisms, personal space, references and figures of speech.”

“So…” Dean hesitated, running it through his head while ignoring how cold he was standing in the shower but out of the water. “You’re worried that what? You’ll do or say something inappropriate?” Cas nodded. “Like what?” Cas heard the grin and turned his head to glare at Dean smirking at him. “What, I’m serious!” Dean said but couldn’t wipe the amusement from his face. “Give me an example.”

Cas inhaled and then exhaled. “Well, I don’t understand what we’re doing in here. We’ve both just ejaculated-” Dean looked down at the mess left on himself, most of it washed off, and then on Cas. “We’ve made no attempts to clean it up or add to it so what are we doing?”

“We’re just-” Dean shrugged. “We were just doing this.” He put his right hand on Cas’ back as he stretched to kiss him.

“But why?” Cas asked, straightening up a little.

“Because it’s nice,” Dean said and kissed him again. “Because we want to.” Again. “Because we can.” Again. “And because why not?”

“And it doesn’t upset you if I do this?” Cas kissed him once, a little longer than Dean had. “Out of heat?”

“Do you want to?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” Cas answered with a nod.

“And you got the impression that I wanted you to?”

Cas paused before he nodded once. “Yes,” he said at the same time.

“Then what would I have to be upset about, Cas?” he asked. “Letting go with me isn’t just being rougher during sex or initiating it yourself. It’s everything, like protecting me, like making me listen when I need to, like wanting to kiss me and doing it without apologizing.”

Cas’ eyes trailed over Dean’s face for signs that he was going to add information or change his mind. And when none came he quickly moved towards him and kissed him, walking him back to the tile and both felt the water begin to run between them again. Neither of them made any attempt to turn it into anything more than it was, content to just touch and kiss while the water washed away.

>><< 

Dean stayed in the shower after Cas got out and when he emerged from the bathroom Cas was lying on the couch in sweats and a t-shirt, his head turned to the right, towards the TV, and his eyes half closed.

“Tire you out?” Dean asked with a smirk as he turned into the kitchen, the towel still around his hips but nothing else.

Cas turned his head to the left to look at him and smiled. “Was that a question or an offering?” he asked.

“Really?” Dean said, closing the refrigerator door over and walking to the couch before he gently jumped over it and over Cas who laughed as Dean leaned down to kiss him the towel loosening around his waist. And then he saw it. “Wait, Dean,” he said and pushed Dean back a little by his arms.

“What?” Dean asked.

“What’s that?” Cas said and leaned to look at the scar on Dean’s side.

“Oh, nothing,” Dean said and leaned to kiss Cas’ neck again.

“Dean, come on,” Cas said and Dean sighed as he leaned back. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Dean said and shrugged. “It’s from years ago?”

Cas tilted his head and pointed to it. “That’s fresh, Dean,” he insisted. "You still have stitches."

Dean grunted. “Okay fine, I got stabbed, alright? Comes with the territory, I don’t need a lecture, Cas, my brother and Ellen gave me enough, alright?” He leaned his side against the back of the couch.

“Why would I lecture you?” Cas asked. “Are you okay?”

Dean hesitated, his brain not ready with an answer. “Well-” His brain just shrugged at him. “I mean- Whenever anything happens my family just kinda yell at me.” He thought about it and his face twisted into confusion. “I’m not sure why.”

“Maybe that’s how they show they care,” Cas said.

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “I never thought about it before.” He looked at Cas who was staring at the scar and then looked down when he felt warmth on his skin, seeing Cas touching carefully around the scar and surrounding bruise. “Do you?” Dean asked and licked his lips quickly and nervously as Cas looked up to him. “Do you care… about me?”

“Of course I do,” Cas said and looked in his eyes with confusion.

“Well, I mean- You’re not yelling at me,” Dean said and looked down to Cas’ fingers still soft on his skin.

Cas tilted his head as he realized that the man in front of him had never known what it was like to really express something he felt or have it expressed to him, not in a healthy way. Cas’ therapist always told him he was too blunt, too literal. But maybe that was a good thing, especially when it came to the man in front of him whose entire life seemed to be filled with riddles and puzzles, at least when it came to people.

“Dean,” Cas leaned forward, catching Dean’s eyes as he looked up to him, “I care about you. But I don’t show it by shouting at you or blaming you for being stabbed. Your job is dangerous, these things will happen no matter how good you are at your job. I show it like this-” He raised his eyebrows. “I care about you.” Dean’s eyes moved over his face. “Are you okay?” He paused before he nodded. “Okay, just be careful you don’t hurt yourself more. So, maybe walk around the sofa next time?”

Dean smiled, letting a little chuckle out and nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he said and watched Cas smile. He leaned forward and kissed Cas, using his weight to push Cas down to lying on the couch, his upper back and head against the arm.

“Doesn’t hurt?” Cas asked, in a mumble against Dean’s mouth.

“Uh-uh,” Dean replied and shook his head as much as it didn’t stop them kissing him.

They continued ignoring the television in favor of the other’s lips for a good few minutes, there were times when it cooled down enough that it felt like they had all of the time in the world, as if the sun wasn’t moving in the sky outside the window and the traffic never moved on the streets. Even when they suddenly felt charged and their movements picked up and Dean deliberately ground his hips against Cas’, when teeth almost caught tongues and hands left red imprints where they were pulling and nails raked equally red but longer-lasting red lines, even in those moments zombies could have walked among the people and the apocalypse could have started but neither of them would have noticed.

As some point Cas had pushed Dean to the cushions and was all over him but Dean had other ideas, Cas had only lay down under Dean when Dean decided he wasn't waiting any more. Cas barely had a chance to register that Dean’s hands were pulling at his sweatpants and his lips had left his neck before he felt Dean’s lips close around his tip and he gasped. He felt Dean still moving on the couch, trying to get far enough down his body, and then the heat closed more securely around him and descended towards the base of his cock.

He lifted his head to look at Dean who looked up and then smiled, more with his eyes than with his lips, and he groaned as he let his head fall back to the couch and armrest. Dean used his left hand to hold Cas’ length steady but then moved his arms around the side of Cas buttocks to hold onto his hips and went hands-free.

Cas moaned loudly as this meant that Dean was taking him deeper and keeping it there with each movement. He moaned Dean’s name and tried not to let himself thrust upwards, not aware that Dean would have been able to stop that with his hold on Cas’ hips. However, Cas grabbed the couch cushion and the rest behind him to pull and squeeze to make it easier to control.

Just as Dean alternated sucking and moving his tongue around Cas lifted his head, lifted his right hand and ran the fingers through Dean’s hair and bit his lip as he watched him. It only lasted a few seconds before he had to let his head hang back but his fingers tightened in Dean’s hair.

“Ugh, Dean!” he shouted as he did so and Dean closed his eyes to it, he couldn’t quite believe what just hearing Cas did to him, he didn’t know if it was the fact that Cas only thought of him or that he could do this for him but either way he was itching to touch himself, instead he thrust against the couch to satisfy the need for friction he had. He felt like it was killing him but he wasn’t about to give up now, not when he had this chance.

All alphas were naturally bigger than omegas or betas, in fact omegas were usually the smallest to allow for better access to the cervix and while Cas heard this through books, leaflets and talking to his parents Dean heard the same information, stated less factually, from friends he’d acquired through the years of travelling with his father and only had these things confirmed or debunked when Sam started asking Bobby the questions he knew Dean and his father couldn’t or wouldn’t answer, respectfully.

While this might seem biologically advantageous it presented one problem: alphas were hard to give really good head to. Omegas and betas knew how to do the deed, it wasn’t rocket science but it required perhaps a little practice to get into rhythms and find the right spots for each alpha, practice that they rarely got because of one organic cock-block: an alpha’s penis grew in length when with an omega in heat to increase the chance of fertilization.

Dean hadn’t been entirely happy with the last time he’d done this, because his heat had made it difficult and he was overcome with a need to show Cas just what he could do, to make it feel like it should. When Dean pushed as far forward as he could and heard Cas inhale sharply then whimper he knew he was on the right track. He moved his left arm from where it was going dead between Cas’ hip and the couch and used it to hold Cas steady while he used his tongue to play with the vein and skin. Cas wasn’t circumcised like most alphas, most probably because he hadn’t been sexually active and therefore it had no medical benefit to him which was the same reason that Dean had never been castrated like most male omegas. But it gave Dean something to work with as he pushed and gently pulled, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate on giving Cas more to feel and relish as he groaned, moaned and whimpered into the room.

Dean’s chest leaned on the crotch of the pair of sweatpants that were still around Cas’ ankles, which were angled inwards to allow for this. Cas squirmed until he managed to wriggle his left foot free and it fell heavily to the floor, thudding so loud it made the neighbors below look up but then dismiss it.

Dean decided to go back to using just his mouth and moved his hand between Cas and his chest and teased Cas’ swollen testicles, noting that they were substantially smaller than the last time they’d been together, before their heat had been ruined. He closed his eyes and concentrated harder, refusing to let her get in between them. As soon as he moved with a little more aggression Cas called out, his subsequent moans becoming louder and somewhat panicked as his balls tightened in Dean’s hand.

“D-” was all Cas managed to say before he started coming, his eyes springing open as it started with such force that it immediately filled Dean’s mouth and then spilled out the sides. Dean nearly choked as it hit the back of his throat and he lifted his hands, trying to catch it but only succeeded in getting on himself.

As soon as Cas’ moaning calmed and he’d obviously rode it out Dean pulled off, jumped up and ran to the bathroom, his towel falling to the floor in his haste. This startled Cas from his post-orgasmic haze and he sat up quickly. “Dean?” he said, shot up and hastily pulled his pants up then followed him into the bathroom. He found Dean standing over the sink, coughing and spitting into it. “Are you alright?” he asked and put his left hand tentatively on Dean’s bare back, terrified that he’d done what he was so scared of – the wrong thing.

“M’fine,” Dean said before he ran the faucet and cupped some water to drink then spat it out again and wiped his face as he stood up straight, looking at Cas’ face in the mirror. It was obvious Cas didn’t believe him. “Really Cas, I’m fine there was just a lot more than I was expecting, that’s all.”

He turned to him and couldn’t help looking down to the lack of space between them and thinking about how they’d gone from barely sitting on the same couch and now this.

Cas noticed the look and saw that he must have been too close. “I apologize,” he said and took a step back, letting his hand fall.

“No, s’fine,” Dean said and took a step towards him. “Really.”

Cas pursed his lips and looked down, trying not to laugh.

“What?” Dean said, his smile falling as he suddenly felt like an idiot. “You don’t have to laugh at me,” he said and turned away, lifting the towel from the rack and turning the water off before he started to dry his hands and hastily wrapped it around his waist. Cas looked up. “Just sayin’-”

“No, Dean,” Cas said and pointed to his chest. “You have some-”

Dean looked down and saw he did indeed have some of Cas’ seed on his chest. “Oh,” he said and ran the tap again, to wipe it off and then rinse his hand, wiping his chest with a hand-towel after. “How’s that?” he asked and looked to Cas.

“I preferred it with,” Cas said firmly.

Dean suddenly grinned. “Just how kinky are you?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “I haven’t had a chance to discover that yet.”

Yet – sounded like another way to say ‘before’.

Dean was formulating an answer, not sure what he wanted to say and Cas not sure what he wanted to hear.

However, there was a loud knock at the door to interrupt whatever might have transpired. Dean looked in the direction and then back to Cas whose attention was solely on him, happy to ignore it as they usually would. But then it happened again.

“Dean, it’s me!” Sam’s voice shouted into the apartment before he knocked again, louder and more insistent.

Cas knew he’d always answer to his brother so he took a step backwards. “I’ll stay here,” he said, angling to let Dean pass him.

“Could you uh- Maybe the bedroom?” Dean whispered. “He might ask to take a leak,” he explained when Sam shouted and banged again.

“Sure,” Cas said and reached to where his toothbrush was and took it, walking out and across the living area.

Dean took a breath before he stepped out and headed to the doorway, watching Cas disappear into the bedroom and close the door over without looking back. Cas walked to the bed and exhaled as he sat down near the headboard, looking at his toothbrush, feeling like the other man, like something sordid and sinful.

“Dean!” Sam shouted again and banged.

“Yeah, yeah!” Dean shouted, stopping Sam mid-bang. “I’m coming, you giant cock-block,” he muttered to himself and looked to the bedroom. “Or whatever that was gonna be.”

He pulled the chain off, careful not to make a noise with it looking around for signs that two people were eating and living here before he pulled the door open. “You know I’m on my-”

Sam pushed passed him into the apartment. “Garth’s been attacked,” he said and turned at the back of the couch to face Dean.

“What?” Dean said and closed the door to the apartment as he looked to his brother who thankfully decided to sit at the nearest kitchen chair, facing Dean but as Dean glanced to the closed bedroom door Sam noticed the plates in the sink as well as the beer bottles in the recycling. He decided not to judge what his brother did to his body during his heat. “What happened?”

Dean watched his brother stand and shake his head as he went to refrigerator, grab a bottle of water and a beer and hold it out for Dean out of habit, and who took it for the same reason, opening it before he even realized. He decided he may as well drink it now and took a drink as he sat across from his brother, able to see the bedroom door.

“He was dealing with that gang, the lead thieves in Ohio-”

“Still?” Dean asked and watched his brother sit down again.

“Yeah,” Sam said and nodded as he opened his bottle of water and then paused to take a drink. “He was rounding the last bunch up, figured if they all went back inside then they’d be no one on the outside to run their operation, so when they came out they’d have nothing.” He inhaled and shook his head again. “They set their dogs on him.”

Dean’s eyes opened wide. “Those big-?”

“Yup,” Sam said and nodded again, his eyes going far away. “He’s alright, one got a hold of his foot.”

Dean chuckled. “Shame he wasn’t wearing those dumb boots-”

“He was,” Sam said. “Those steel cowboy boots?” he asked and Dean nodded and so he did the same. “About the only reason his foot is still attached. A group of us are heading out to wrangle them up; Ellen’s already persuaded him to press charges.”

“You mean he wasn’t gonna?” Dean asked.

“Didn’t want the dogs to die,” Sam said.

“That sounds like G,” Dean said and Sam nodded, both of them taking a drink before Dean looked back to Sam. “He’s gonna be alright?” Sam nodded. “Good. Hey, ain’t there any way around putting them down?”

“No idea,” Sam admitted. “I got a line down to a hunter in Georgia, she specializes in animal-related so we’ll see.”

Dean exhaled and then looked back to Sam, thinking about how he should go with him, hell he should _want_ to go with him but he didn’t. He didn’t want to leave this apartment, or who he was sharing it with. “Sam, you know, I appreciate the swing-by but you know I can’t come with you-”

“No, I know,” Sam said. “I was on my way here anyway when Ellen called me, let me know. She tried calling you, said your phone was dead.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, trying not to show that he’d forgotten all about the outside world. “Think my charger’s broken,” he ad-libbed.

“I’ll run and get you one,” Sam offered, putting his free hand on the table, readying to stand up.

“No, I’ll get one tomorrow,” Dean said.

Sam’s brow dipped. “Aren’t you in heat?” he sniffed.

“Well, I got a landline,” Dean said. “You need to call me? I’m not going anywhere. Just-”

“Don’t give it out, I know,” Sam said. “Charlie wanted me to ask you a bunch of questions about a program she’s developing to help reduce-”

Dean looked to the floor on his right and sighed, as he did Sam noticed some white substance on his neck, behind his left ear. He narrowed his eyes, it looked like- He smelled the air again as Dean spoke, wondering if that was why he couldn’t smell Dean this time.

He suddenly remembered. “Oh, wait, Ash dropped this off.” He stood and went to the coffee table, turning back and holding out a laptop for Sam. “He said it was the code or something.”

“This?” Sam took it, his top half twisted toward Dean who walked around as he handed it back, aware he was making Sam look exactly where he didn’t want him to.

“Yeah, he said it was too big for a stick or somethin’, I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Listen, Sam, I’m real strung out-” He stretched his neck to look at the door, rubbing his forehead. He felt like hell, and all he wanted was Sam to leave. And that made him feel worse, his little brother and the one reason he was still standing, in so many ways, but he just wanted to get back to Cas and the one week when they pretended that the rest of the world didn’t exist.

“Okay, yeah, I’m going,” Sam said and stood up, his eyes on Dean’s neck before he started to walk towards the door, seeing the trench coat on the peg and the shoes under it. They looked familiar and then the image hit him – the guy Dean had flirted with during a case, Sam had thought it weird at the time but now it might make sense. He stopped at the door and leaned forward to pull it open as Dean stood behind him. “Hey did you call that guy?” Sam asked.

“What guy?” Dean asked as Sam put his left hand on the side of the door, tucking the laptop in at his chest, and looked at Dean.

“The guy that gave you his number in Lincoln last week?” Dean looked confused. “Or did you think I didn’t see you flirting with the lawyer guy?” He smirked, loving catching Dean out.

“Alright, get out,” Dean said, suddenly remembering. He didn’t realize he’d been flirting at the time but it would explain the number he’d been given and the weird look he’d gotten from his brother and Claire.

“Okay, I’m going,” Sam said as Dean shooed him and stopped. “Oh, in that case.” He pursed his lips together. “I guess that’s hair gel on your neck?” He smirked and closed the door before Dean could kill him.

“What?” Dean asked and wiped his hand on the right side of his neck and looked at his hand, finding it bare he then wiped his left, his eyes widening in horror when he realized he had some semen on his neck, running to the sink to wash it off. “Shit, shit, shit,” he said to himself knowing that it made no difference now.

Cas was still sitting on Dean’s bed with his head against the headboard and twirling his toothbrush while he looked ahead, his eyes zoned out. He was disgusted in himself; Dean’s friend was hurt but all Cas could think of was that Dean had flirted with a man a week ago.

“Sam, saw-” Dean said and turned, seeing the door was still closed. His brow dipped and he shut off the faucet before he walked to the bedroom door and opened it slowly, trying to be quiet in case Cas had fallen asleep. However, he was met with Cas sitting on his bed, idly twirling his toothbrush between the fingers on his right hand in front of his stomach. “Hey, thought you mighta fallen asleep.” He walked towards the bed and Cas just slowly looked at him, his expression blank and unchanging. “You okay?”

Cas nodded slowly. “Yes,” he said and lifted his head from the headboard, trying think what he was going to do about the way he was feeling. He knew he had no right to feel this way but he couldn’t help it and, perhaps the scariest of all, he wasn’t sure that he wanted to. He leaned to put his toothbrush on the nightstand as Dean sat down beside him.

“Maybe we could pick up from where we left off,” Dean said.

“Where did we leave off?” Cas asked and looked at him, trying to put everything out of his head but part of him wanted to run away.

“Well, I think we were talking about kinks,” Dean said with a chuckle as he leaned to Cas.

He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t just push it away and forget it, he knew he couldn’t and however stupid he knew it was he was going to let the part of him that wanted to run away win this time. He just hoped he might come back at the end.

Cas turned his head away and Dean immediately recoiled from the behavior; they might not be sharing a heat right now but there was no mistaking the behavior – rejection – and it stung like hell.

“Why don’t I go and get us something for dinner?” Cas floated as he stood up from the bed and immediately started looking for his own pants.

“There’s enough food here,” Dean said and felt like he had to look away when Cas dropped his sweatpants and pulled his jeans on without underwear.

“Yes,” Cas said and looked down as he _carefully_ zipped up. “But I would like something else.” He picked up a t-shirt and threw that over his head.

“Well- Like what?” Dean asked, turning to look at him again and not completely understanding what was going on.

Cas’ mind went completely blank, like he wasn’t sure what food even was never mind what dishes he could bring back.

“Chinese, Indian- What, Cas?” Dean asked, getting irritated, he was being brushed off and he just wished Cas respected him enough to say it out loud, treat him like an actual person he cared about, like he said he did. Or was that all just lies?

“I don’t know,” Cas said, almost offhandedly, and walked into the living area.

Dean followed him. “Why don’t you just say you wanna leave, Cas!”

“Alright, I want to leave!” Cas shot back as he bent to pick up his shoes and stuffed them in his left arm.

“Why? What did I do now?” Dean asked, standing behind him, looking at him. “Is it because you stayed in the bedroom? Cas, I’m not hiding you, I told you I just don’t want this part of my life poisoned by the rest!”

Cas grabbed his coat from the peg and opened the door but Dean felt anger build in him: How could Cas do this to him, treat him like this? One minute he made Dean feel like he was almost worth it and he didn’t even know what ‘it’ was but with Cas it felt like he didn’t know it _yet_. Dean felt like while the world was terrifying that he and Cas had their own world that was protected somehow. As if the rules were different when it was just them. And now this, now Cas was making him feel like he wasn’t even worth the truth, like the rule book hadn’t just been changed but completely burned and it hurt like hell.

And so he did something in a split second decision that he’d see over and over again for his entire life, and it’d make him feel just as sick with guilt then as it did the second he’d done it.

Dean pushed Cas’ back hard, with the force Cas lunged forward and pushed the door closed, and on top of that his body stayed in motion, he put his hands out and one shoe slipped from his grasp but it was too late and he smacked his head off of the door which made a hollow thud then rattled in the frame just after it slammed.

Dean’s face fell as Cas turned to look at him, anger obvious on his face as Dean dipped and picked up his shoe. “I know it’s wrong but the idea of you flirting with someone pissed me off, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, panicked. “I didn’t mean for- Here” He held out the shoe. “I didn’t mean to make you hit your head,” he added as Cas took the shoe. “I’m sorry, Cas.”

“Just-” Cas started.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said softly, looking at the mark on Cas’ forehead and nose.

Cas stepped back as he pulled the door open again. “Just let me drive around,” he said and left as Dean nodded and closed the door behind him.

“Yeah,” Dean said and leaned against the door. “I’m sorry,” he said to the wood. “Damnit, I’m so sorry.”

Cas stopped on the last landing and sat down on the step to put his shoes on, thinking about the words Sam had said. He knew he needed to address the fact that Dean had just slammed him into a door, even if it was by accident as he'd said. He didn’t have enough information to make a judgment on that and right now he couldn’t think properly.

He stood up and put his jacket on before he walked outside. He stopped and looked around aimlessly, wiping his mouth hard as he thought about what he was going to do now.

Merely four cars away Sam was sitting in his car having just hung up a call from Phyllis in New England and texting Heather back about Garth’s attack when he looked up as he leaned forward to start the car and saw a man burl around on the spot. He immediately recognized the coat.

Cas was trying to decide between going back upstairs and leaving. He walked towards his car telling himself that he could just drive around and then come back but then he stopped, thinking about all the times he’d told himself that in the past, all of the homes he’d ran away from, all of the jobs, and all of the times he’d went back – one.

He stopped and turned, looking at the apartment building and thinking that he just needed to go up there and talk to Dean, explain that he wasn’t upset because of the flirting – what right would he have? – it was because of how it was making him feel.

But then what would Dean say? Cas stopped again and turned on the spot. What would he say? What would he do? Cas didn’t know the answer to these questions and that scared him all the way to his car. Sam lifted in his seat and managed to see the man put his arms on his steering wheel and then lean forward and hide his face in them.

Something told Sam that there weren’t that many people in the world that could make someone react like that and if one of them wasn’t his brother he’d drink his own blood. He wondered just how anyone could get someone to react like that over a little innocent flirting, Sam was sure he’d seen his brother throw the number away but when he’d seen the coat he’d assumed he’d been wrong. Clearly not.

He sighed, shook his head and pulled away, making a mental note that these things were one of the topics he couldn’t joke with Dean about, including anime and Clint, the monkey in that Eastwood film.

He looked up briefly. “Clyde,” he corrected himself. “Clyde.” He nodded and pulled away, he would have stayed but he had to hook up with Ellen and get going on rounding these guys up.

Cas sat there for another twenty minutes before he pulled out of the parking lot and tried to sort everything out in his head while Dean was upstairs taking a drink of his beer and then throwing it at his front door.

Cas drove around again wondering why he’d been making the decisions he had this past year. It then occurred to him that he and Dean had been doing this for over a year. In a year they were into their fourth week and Dean drove him crazy. He didn’t know if he was coming or going and yet all he did know, as he stopped at a light and stared ahead, was that he couldn’t wait to turn up for Dean’s heat.

He shook his head, knowing that now it wasn’t about his heat, it wasn’t about getting him through these times. He wondered when that had changed, if it ever had. He grunted and lowered his head, closing his eyes tight and then jilted, opening them and keeping them on the road as someone blasted their horn behind him. He flashed his rear lights in an apology and took off.

Despite that the man driving overtook him blasting his horn and flipped Cas off.

“Oh… Fuck off,” Cas said. “I’ve got my own problems.” He sighed.

He tried not to but he heard his brother, Gabriel, saying, “Every time you curse an angel gets his wings.”

“Shut up,” Cas said to himself, the last thing he needed was to think of his estranged brother and his endless film references that weren’t even correct. He never understood why he quoted them if he was going to change them to fit the situation but he missed it all the same.

At the next light he stopped and didn’t register that it went green until it was red again and then failed to realize it had changed once more and so went through it.

He let his mind move from one thought to the next and for a few moments let himself think about Samandriel and how sick he’d felt when he’d seen him again. He moved his rear-view mirror to check in the backseat and found it empty.

He knew, not even that deep-down, that it wasn’t fear of anything to come or the fear of a ghost he’d chased away repeating on him; it was the reminder that he could roll about with Dean all he liked but at the end of it all he would always be just an alpha who didn’t care about anything other than getting what he wanted. It didn’t matter if it was what the other person wanted and so why would it matter who?

He ran a hand over his mouth and tried to focus on the road over the knowledge that it did matter who and it would never stop mattering.

 

Dean tipped the bits of broken beer bottle from the dish towel into the trash and cursed himself for throwing it before he just threw away the towel too. He hadn’t been able to help it, it was on the kitchen table when he’d decided to take a drink and then he remembered shoving Cas in the back and the sound as he contacted with the door and then he’d just thrown it.

Not only had Cas not asked his side or respected him enough to just come out with the truth, he’d done the one thing he’d never wanted to do – hurt Cas.

He was no better than the people among the one’s that Claire hunted; she went after anyone connected to religion – people who were swindled out of money for ‘miracles’, people who thieved from churches, synagogues and mosques, accused men and women who cited God as a reason for committing their crimes, hate crimes with religious motivation and sexual assault and abuse cases as well as forced or underage marriage. Since her father had left them telling her mother that an angel had told him he had important work for him and then disappeared she couldn’t be stopped, she knew more about religious doctrine than most pastors or imams. She also took cases of parents who disappeared from the family - after one too many false alarms concerning finding her mom - and a lot of their reasons were also violence.

He knew that the pushers Sam pursued often had domestic violence or assault on their sheets too; Ellen told Dean that although all the parents who deserted their children weren’t always physically abusive it did happen a lot; as did the sexual predators he chased.

He stopped and closed his eyes for a minute, feeling genuinely ill at the thought that he and those vermin could have something in common.

Now he wondered if it weren’t the best thing for them, for Cas not to come back. Dean asked himself how else he expected this to culminate, really how else was this ever going to go down but come to an end? He guessed he hoped for a mutual decision and, if he was honest, a mammoth session of ‘goodbye sex’ but that was being optimistic. He was already trying to think of a way to get Cas’ bag back to him; he wondered if he should put it on his porch, knock and run or if that was too juvenile but he supposed he could leave it in Cas’ unlocked garage and slip a note into his mailbox.

 

Cas was still driving around the streets trying to process everything that had been happening. He knew he should probably still be bothered that Dean hid him every time someone came over but he really wasn’t, he understood what Dean meant when he said he wanted something that was just his. He could understand that because that’s what Dean was to him. Of course he had to share him with his attendance record and his secretary who arranged it. And his therapist.

He shifted in his seat getting agitated with himself because it suddenly felt like Dean wasn’t just his, suddenly he was a part of his life to literally work around and a part that affected him enough to talk about in therapy, the same place that he spoke about killing a fish by accident when he was a child or his fear of fire, a fear he shared with a lot of the children in the home that went up in flames. Therapy was the same place he talked about his liking of building things by hand, how bathing was one of his coping mechanisms during stressful times and how math made him feel secure in the world. Meg Masters, the woman who argued with Cas that he could insist that he really did put his entire forearm in a pot of boiling water during his childhood but he only needed to look at his skin to know it wasn’t true was the same person who as yet had not offered any opinion on this part of his life. She had merely listened to his entire story and then nodded before telling him they would talk about it again at some point. And they did; they spoke about how it was affecting him physically or mentally, this move from a lifestyle of abstinence to this. But not once had they discussed Dean, neither had even brought him up.

He drove around and around the streets wondering what Meg would say right now, wondering what he should do about it all. He glanced to the dash-clock and then fumbled in his jacket for his phone as he pulled the car in to the side of the road suddenly to the sound of horns from the pre-rush hour traffic building up behind him.

He dialed and then put the handset to his ear as he looked around, hoping no one would stop their car and getting out to give him tips on his driving.

_“Hello?”_

“Dr Masters?” Cas asked.

 _“Castiel?”_ she said. _“Is everything alright?”_

“Not really,” Cas said. “I’m sorry, I know I should call your secretary but I’m on the cusp of something here, I don’t know it’s some big decision or a panic attack but either way I needed to talk to you.”

 _“Alright, excuse me a second,”_ she said and Cas nodded to himself hearing a muffled discussion and then movement before there was a hard thud in the background and Meg came back. _“Start from the beginning.”_

“I-” Cas exhaled. “I was at- at Dean’s.” He paused. “I overheard his brother mention that he flir-” Cas stopped, knowing how stupid this was sounding. “That he flirted with someone a week ago, while on a job, and I just-” Cas sighed and widened his eyes. “I just had to leave, I left the apartment, I’ve been driving around for-”

 _“First thing is first, pull in,”_ Meg said.

“I have,” Cas assured.

 _“Okay, good,”_ she said. _“How did you overhear this?”_

“I was in the bedroom and Dean and his brother were in the kitchen talking,” Cas said. “Sam didn’t know I was there.” Silence on the other end and Cas knew she was waiting for him to elaborate. “He- I- I was hiding, in the bedroom.” More silence. “I- Dean doesn’t want his brother to know- that-” He knew how it sounded and what she’d think so he rushed to explain. “No, not about me, he doesn’t want him to know he has an al- that he’s with an alpha. That’s he’s with one. He says he doesn’t want the two parts of his life to mix.” Cas smiled a little. “He wants something that’s just his.”

There was a pause and then a faint sound of Meg inhaling before she spoke, _“So, you were hiding and you heard Sam mention that Dean had been flirting with someone else.”_ She said their names with slight emphasis, because she didn’t know these people and wanted to get them right. _“And then you what? Ran away.”_

“No!” Cas said and paused. “It wasn’t like that. I just felt-”

_“How did it make you feel, really, Castiel?”_

“It-” Cas thought about it. “It made me- made me feel-” It appeared like a pit in his stomach that forced air from his lungs. “It made me feel replaceable.”

 _“It made you feel replaceable,”_ Meg repeated, knowing that this was a technique used to lead the patient to elaborate without making them aware they were being encouraged or lead their thinking with emotive words.

“Yes,” Cas said and nodded, taking the bait. “Before I felt like the only person in the world that Dean could possibly allow as close to him as I am, but not now.”

_“And by close do you mean physically?”_

“Yes,” Cas said.

_“Not emotionally?”_

“No,” Cas said, shaking his head twice before it stopped. “Well, of course there is some emotional closeness. A connection, a bond. There has to be, we wouldn’t be doing this if there wasn’t.”

_“And do you feel emotionally replaceable as well as physically?”_

Cas paused and thought about it. “I don’t know,” he said. “Am I?”

_“I can’t answer that, Castiel. Neither can the roads you’re driving around on. Only Dean can. The next question is, do you want to find out? Or do you want to drive home and never know?”_

>><< 

 

It was an hour later while Dean was sitting staring at a blank TV screen, food still out, leg shaking like crazy. The door knocked and Dean's head whipped around. He practically ran to it and pulled it open. "Can I explain n... Now."

Dean stared at Amara.

"Explain anything you-" she started.

Dean's right hand went out, flipping the box to the side, the metal of the tin scraping against the wood as he found the gun in one movement. He pointed it at her before she'd even finished her thought.

"Get the hell away from me, you crazy bitch," Dean said, slowly and firm, as calm as he could. She didn’t scare him now, he wasn’t on his heat, he was any other omega with a gun. And he was mad. Why did it have to be her on the other side and not Cas? He’d been sure, as if he could have smelled him.

Cas stopped on his way up the stairs and then quietly took the next few steps to poke his head out to see the scene before him. Amara, standing at Dean's open door.

"I just wanted to-"

"I don't give a crap what you want," Dean said and stepped forward, into the hall, neither saw Cas whose eyes went to the gun.

Amara took a step backwards, her hands lifting in the air.

"What the hell is with alphas?!" Dean said loudly. "They just don't listen. The ones you want around take off without asking your side,” Cas looked down briefly, “and the ones you don't want-"

"Which am I?" she asked.

Dean cocked his gun. "Why don't we find out?"

"You know, you're very hostile," Amara said. “I wouldn’t have guessed Castiel would be into that sort of omega.”

"Believe me," Dean said. "This is all for you." He bared his teeth when she laughed and poked the gun in her face. "I swear, I'll shoot you."

"And go to jail?"

"What, a poor defenseless omega in heat against an alpha who wouldn't take no for an answer? I've been in court before, I've testified against people like you, you'll go down quicker than your boner did when I pointed this at you."

"Actually it perked up," she whispered with a smirk.

"Why do I actually believe you?"

"But there's one problem with your case," Amara said. "You're not in heat." She sniffed and then shook her head. "What is that?"

"Chow mein," Cas said as he took the last step and Dean looked at him like he was a miracle, the bag swinging loosely in his left hand. "Only enough for two, I'm afraid." 

Amara glanced to Dean and grabbed the gun, aiming it at Dean who backed up. Cas took a step forward and she pointed the gun at him. Dean put his right hand out, moving a step over, trying to shield him.

The door behind Amara opened and she looked.

"What's going on?" the woman asked.

Dean stepped in front of Cas. "Get inside, Mrs Baker. Call the cops! Lock the door!"

She did just that.

Amara looked between them both, panic in her eyes but too confused to leave yet.

"He's not in heat," she said, looking at Cas over Dean's shoulder.

"I know," Cas said. “Heat or no heat, put the gun down and we can go for round two," he spat.

Dean raised his eyebrows as he looked to Cas then back to her.

"How'd you even know where I live?" Dean asked.

She just scoffed, held out the gun as she backed up then ran.

Cas walked forward but Dean stopped him. "Don't," he said. "The cops'll get her."

"What about your gun?" Cas asked.

"I’d rather have you," Dean said, looking to Cas.

"Let's go in," Cas said. "Eat while we wait."

"Yeah," Dean said, pulling the chain across after the closed the door.

>><< 

Dean fixed the box by the door after the police left. He'd shown them his permit and ownership papers so they'd copied the details and reported it stolen. They also had a BOLO out on Amara for harassment and possible stalking as well as the theft.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Cas asked as Dean pulled the chain over again. "The chain, the gun." Cas paused, unsure if he should mention the pills. "That can't have been because of her."

"Why not?" Dean asked.

"Because if you're that scared you don't point a gun in her face and say the things you did." 

Dean looked to the box again and then went to his jacket, taking an open letter from the inside pocket before he walked to where Cas was sitting at the kitchen table and sat down. He held it out and Cas took it.

He took the paper out and unfolded it.

 

 

> _Dean Winchester_
> 
> _I write to inform you that a Mr Benjamin Lafitte is being released from Littlewood Detention Center on February 7th. I'm writing to you because I realize this is six years earlier than expected and thought you deserved to know, I could get in a lot of trouble for this. He knows he isn't allowed to contact anyone from his trial however if he does contact you inform your local police department as soon as possible. Do not hesitate._
> 
> _Victor Henriksen, Warden of Littlewood._

 

Cas looked up to Dean.

"Benjamin Lafitte," Dean said and exhaled, "was my friend Benny. Someone who I’d known for most of my childhood, who I woulda trusted with my life and with who I even- I even thought I might have had something one day." He cleared his throat. "Benny was the guy I was meeting the night I met you. When I didn't turn up he bar-hopped for hours until, at eleven seventeen at night he-" Dean inhaled hard. "He came across an omega sleeping rough. He raped and beat that guy to within an inch of his life."

Cas put the letter down.

"I uh- I didn't hear until weeks later, what had happened. I trusted him so much it never crossed my mind he'd be guilty. I went to Benny, to visit him in jail, tell him it'd all be okay. He spat in my face. He said it was my fault. That if I hadn't been a whore and I'd have turned up none of this would've happened." Dean swallowed. "He laughed after suggesting maybe I was jealous, that I wanted that-" He inhaled. "I believed him, I went to the hospital, I apologized. I told his victim that it was all my fault. He asked me to testify, if he died, to make sure he paid."

"He died?"

"Nope," Dean said. "Aaron is an awesome hunter, one of my gang. We work together a lot, he works sex crimes too as well as helping the homeless."

"But you testified?"

"You're damn right I did," Dean said. "That could have been me, Cas," Dean said. "You saved me from the same fate either way that night, I wasn't just standing in front of a judge I was hitting back at those alphas in the alley. I was telling alphas everywhere that it didn't matter what they did, we didn't deserve it, we weren't gonna take it. That we'd stick together, fight evil together."

"And he's out?"

"Yeah, don't know why," Dean said.

"Has he-?"

Dean shook is head. "Not yet," Dean said.

"Yet?"

"I just have this gut-feeling that he will." 

"Don't let him ruin your life, that'd be winning," Cas urged, knowing that it was a cliché.

Dean looked down. "I can't get him outta here-" He angrily poked his temple. "So he's already won. Aaron has a uh- a scar here." Dean straightened up and opened his legs, running a finger from his inside thigh to the top. "Benny bit him so hard he tore muscle." Dean inhaled. "It was evidence during the trial. They tried to say that it had been consensual and that he couldn't have twisted like that if Aaron had been struggling. I stood up there and told that entire courtroom about when we would fight, not serious fighting, how he almost always won, how he'd manage to take on kids three times his side. How he came to see this as an advantage to be exploited. I thought about when we met. In school, Sam was being bullied and I was angry, even as a kid my job was to look after Sammy. I was ready to make them pay right then and this kid just walked up to me and whispered in my ear one word – wait. He’d said that there was no point in getting in trouble by acting rashly, I just had to wait for the right time. And when the right time came, I didn’t ask for his help but he was there, holding people back. I was eight and I was laying into a six year old, really gonna rip his throat out. And Benny just laughed. Sam eventually came along, following the crowd, and stopped it. Stopped me.

“That was the difference between them; Benny was always encouraging me to do the things that Sam would stop me doing. That was the d- That was the danger. At the trial they kept going on about the fact that Aaron and I had records and he didn’t.” Dean looked to Cas. “Nothing bad, it was theft or vandalism. With Aaron it was trespassing or theft. But that’s when I really thought about it, because he was there; most every conviction I got, Benny was there he just didn’t get caught or charged because he didn’t do it. He never got his hands dirty he just watched, he liked to watch other people do it. He was always looking out for cops or holding the guys down while I-” Dean stopped, taking an inhale. “While I beat them up.” He let his forearms fall to the table and looked at his hands. “They assessed him-” He pointed to his head and then let it fall again. “They said he was a high-functioning sociopath. I was sitting there, listening to everything the report said about sociopaths – the charm that can turn so quickly to aggression, the entitlement, the lying that is so convincing you’d think they believed it, the rage buried deep down-” Dean stopped. “It was like someone was explaining our entire friendship to me. It all just slipped into place. It was like he’d fed off of everyone he’d ever met his entire life.” Dean’s eyes closed tight and he looked in pain.

Cas reached out for him, gently taking Dean’s clenched left hand from his right, and held it in his. “Dean, stop pushing it back.” He dipped his head to see Dean better. “You’re allowed to cry, that doesn’t make you weak either.”

Dean exhaled a gasp, nodded as the tears began to fall and the muscles in his face loosened. “It was my fault,” he said.

Cas shook his head. “No-”

Dean looked up to him, gesturing to himself with his free hand. “It was! They said so. They told me it was all my fault. Sociopaths have incredible patience when trying to get what they want, they can work for years to get what they want.” He swallowed hard. “Who.”

Cas’ eyes narrowed. “Who?”

Dean looked down again, Cas felt the slightest tightening of Dean’s hand around his and he squeezed it.

“Dean, you can tell me,” Cas said. “If you want to.”

“At first they tried to plead innocent, they said it wasn’t him. They said the DNA was from consensual sex. But there was camera footage of the attack so then they tried to plead diminished responsibility, they had him tested and everything. Then they tried to pin it on me, said that’s why I came to visit him, because I knew it was all my fault.”

“How could any of this be your fault?”

“Because I didn’t turn up so I essentially rejected him and he transitioned from high-functioning sociopath to low-functioning. Me,” Dean pointed to himself. “I thought we’d had a friendship but the whole time he’d just been working me, twisting everything around so he could get what he wanted.”

“You,” Cas said softly and Dean looked down again. “He wanted you?” Dean nodded. “But he had you as a friend, all he had to do was discuss more, did he ever try that?”

“Yeah,” Dean said and sniffed. “But it was never full on, it always felt like it was a game, it was just messing around. Like-” Dean brow knitted. “Like he was letting me know what was on the table.”

Cas thought about it. “And did you ever-?” He was going to attempt to go with the metaphor but he was never very good at it so he changed his mind as Dean looked to him. “Before you decided to meet that night, had you ever-?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah, it was always him that initiated anything-”

“Anything?” Cas asked, feeling his jaw tighten.

“He would always scent me and stuff, if you can call it that, outta heat.”

Cas shook his head. “No,” he said. “Was he maneing you?”

Dean’s face stayed relaxed but perplexed. “What?” he asked. “What’s that?”

“It’s when an alpha can detect a scent when you’re close to presenting,” Cas said.

“Well, yeah, that,” Dean said. “I was always hesitant but-” He chuckled bitterly. “All I’ve ever been able to think of is that-” He shook his head, as if angry at himself. “Every single time I wasn’t going to pursue it and yet I knew if he’d just gone one more step I would have followed him.”

“You mean, he stopped?” Cas asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “I never chased it but if he’d made a move- I mean a real move, more than that manning thing or rubbing at me, if he’d done anything I would have gone with it. A few times I was even disappointed-” He looked to Cas. “I was disappointed, Cas.” He wiped his face harshly, despising the tears that were so slowly trickling down his face, so slowly that they tickled; something sad and yet it threatened to be amusing, something else he shouldn’t enjoy.

“Dean, he was your friend, you didn’t know who he was, not really.” He inhaled shakily. “It sounds like he wasn’t happy with it being his doing.”

Dean looked up, confusion scrunching his brow and halting the tears just under his eyes for as long as the expression stayed on his face. “What do you mean?”

“People like that, they don’t want to take they want it handed to them. It sounds like he was never going to take it further with you unless it was you that did it. When you discussed the heat, you agreed on it so I assume that you would have been more likely to chase something than you would have the other times.”

Dean thought about that night, the way he’d felt before making his way there. “Yeah,” he said. “I mean, I would have followed his lead because he had experience but yeah, I woulda-” Dean nodded but seemed unable to say more.

“I don’t think he would have hurt you that night, Dean, not unless you’d rejected him. Did Aaron ever talk about-?”

Dean shook his head. “Not to me, but I heard it in the court room.”

“You stayed?” Cas asked. “For Aaron’s testimony?”

“No,” Dean said. “I stayed for Aaron, he didn't have any family, he went through that night alone, he went through the ordeal, the hospital stay and the tests, all on his own. I’d promised him that he wasn’t on his own anymore. It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d thrown up – and I was close to it – nothing would have made me leave that room. I told him to focus on me, to tell me his story, not the room full of people, just me. I never looked away from him, there was no way I was even gonna glance away from him. I let him down that night, letting Benny find him, I wasn’t gonna do it twice.”

“Dean,” Cas said and lifted his other hand to Dean’s hand, switching so he could put his right hand on Dean’s face, “you didn’t let anyone down that night. You didn’t make the date.”

“Exactly,” Dean said. “And if I had Benny wouldn’t have gone walking around, angry and-”

“I’m the one that made it so you didn’t make it,” Cas said and Dean looked to him as his hand lowered. “It’s my fault.”

“Cas, no-” Dean shook his head. “What he did wasn’t your fault!”

Cas leaned into him a little. “And it wasn’t yours either,” he said and Dean let his head hang. “It was no one’s fault expect Benny’s.” He tilted his head. “I think Aaron knows that or he wouldn’t hunt with you.”

Dean pursed his lips together and wiped his face again. “He said- In the hospital, he said it wasn’t my fault.” He exhaled. “He said it wasn’t his fault either but he didn’t look like he believed it. I think he blamed me.”

Cas shook his head. “Come on, Dean,” he said and pointed to the letter. “That man went to jail, not you, not Aaron – him. He manipulated you for years, he was going to take advantage of you that night, consent or not. And the only reason he attacked Aaron was because-”

“Because I wasn’t there!” Dean said. “It should have been me, Cas.”

Cas’ brow furrowed. “Dean, listen to me. The reason he left the bar was because you never made it-”

“See!” Dean said and broke into sobs. “I knew it…”

“No,” Cas said and got up from his chair, turning Dean’s out from the table with a low squeak of wood on wood. Dean looked to him as he got down on his knees in front of Dean and used his hands to pull Dean’s to his. “Listen to the words – all of them – that come out of my mouth, Dean. He arranged to meet you, you were on your way. The court decided he was a sociopath meaning that he had manipulated you into wanting him, whatever you may think about what you wanted from him you were his victim-” Dean opened his mouth. “If you’d had sex with him that night it wouldn’t have been because you really wanted to, it would’ve been because he’d made you think you did. If you’d rejected him he would have snapped and raped you, Dean. Either way he was going to abuse you that night.

Cas shifted on his knees a little and looked up at Dean whose tears were quietly falling slower and slower.

“You didn’t show up that night, and he got angry, he wandered around and worked _himself_ \- He did that to himself. He worked himself into such a rage that the hold he’d had over you had snapped that he saw a young man sleeping rough and decided he was going to get what he wanted and if he couldn’t have you giving it to him he was going to take it.” He squeezed Dean’s hands. “That was him, not you.” He closed his eyes tight. “Dean, _please_ believe me.” He looked up. “If he’d cared about you he would have called you, made sure you were okay, arranged to pick you up, meet you another night. Anything but what he did.”

There was a pause.

“Is that what you would have done?” Dean asked and it took Cas by surprise enough that Dean had to elaborate. “If we arranged to meet and I didn’t turn up, would you call me?”

“Yes!” Cas said. “I’d call and call until you picked up, until I knew you were safe, Dean! Because that’s what you do when you care, if he’d considered you a person and not just his victim he would have done anything but what he did.”

Dean looked down. “I felt like it was my punishment.” Cas exhaled in pain. “I felt like when my dad used to shout at me whenever I got hurt or when Sam got hurt and he’d belt me.” He wiped his nose on his arm and Cas thought the movement childish, as if he’d regressed in front of his eyes. “It just seemed to fit. Except that I wasn’t there so he couldn’t hurt me so he hurt Aaron like how Dad would take it out on Sammy when I wasn’t there. I was just so, _so_ happy that my dad was outta town.” Cas looked confused. “Whenever we were fooling around and he wanted to get a reaction outta me he always mentioned Sam.”

“What?” Cas asked, his voice changing to base but cracking.

“Whenever I was hesitant or worried he’d bring up Sam, saying that he wouldn’t be scared. Or maybe that Sam would present as alpha since I wasn’t man enough.” Dean shrugged. “Stuff. But when I heard and I thought about it a part of me really thought he mighta-”

Cas’ eyebrows raised. “Dean, he might have.”

Dean’s face contorted as he began crying again. “But then I feel like such an asshole, because I’m glad he wasn’t-” He inhaled so sharply it hurt his throat. “I’m thankful it was Aaron.”

Cas shook his head. “No, Dean. That’s not true.”

“It is,” Dean said.

“If feels like that but it’s not,” Cas said and put his hand on Dean’s face. “You don’t have to do this again, testify.” He shook his head. “It’s okay.”

Dean’s hand lifted and clasped around Cas’ against his face and held it there. “Will you be there?”

“Yes,” Cas nodded. “I promise. You can focus on me.”

Dean nodded and turned his head to kiss Cas’ palm and then pressed his hand back to his face. “Then I think I’ll be okay,” Dean said.

“Is that why you have a baseball bat by your bed?” Cas asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said softly. “Sometimes in the cold Aaron limps a little and I know he thinks about it because I do. He won’t leave the bunker now. Sam was the same when Jess died.”

“But he left, didn’t he?” Cas asked.

Dean nodded. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I had to drag his ass outside but yeah, he did.”

“So, don’t give up on him yet,” Cas said. “He’s survived this far.”

Dean nodded again. “Yeah,” he said and sniffed. “He never even called me, Benny,” Dean said and looked to Cas. “I thought about calling him when I was in yours, not because I wanted him there but because I didn’t want to leave him waiting.”

“Why didn’t you?” Cas asked.

“I thought he mighta came and got me,” Dean said and looked at Cas. “I knew he’d be mad that I was with another alpha and I didn’t want him to take it out on you.” Dean’s hand lifted and he cupped Cas’ face as Cas’ dropped slowly. “I didn’t realize it then but now it feels like I chose, him or you.”

Cas lifted up on his knees and kissed Dean’s cheek before he leaned into Dean’s ear. “You chose you,” Cas said and Dean’s eyes closed as Cas’ arms wrapped around him and held him, Dean’s circling around his shoulders and he let his head rest against Cas’.

It suddenly seemed so simple to Dean; his whole life it’d been about choosing a life with or without an alpha, but Cas was right, it wasn’t about that at all, it was about him. Not Benny. Not Cas. It was him.

Okay, it was a little about Cas.

But mostly it was about him and what he wanted.

And it was okay if that was Cas. But it wasn’t _just_ that, that was just a part of this, that was just a tiny part of him and his life. It didn’t have to run it or manipulate it, it was just there, a part of it like his hand was on the end of his arm.

Or his heart was beating in his chest.

Dean couldn’t help it, his reflex when it came to emotion welled up quicker than he’d expected and he began to try and stop himself crying and pull back as he said, “Where is this heat, huh?” he chuckled as Cas looked at him and he wiped his eyes.

Cas exhaled through his nose flatly, sadness on his face. “Dean, who did this to you?”

Dean looked at him, pausing in confusion for just a second. “What?”

“Who told you that it’s not okay to cry?” Cas asked, his hands lifting and taking Dean’s gently, pulling them away from wiping his face.

“Wh- No one, Cas. It’s just- You wipe tears away, right? Everyone does it.”

“Yes, they do,” Cas said. “But they let themselves cry-”

“Not always,” Dean interrupted.

“Inside, Dean. I can see the exact moment in your eyes when you shut off the emotions you feel and I want to know who did that to you,” Cas said. “I want to know, Dean.”

Dean swallowed, and the gate went down.

“And what if I don’t want to tell you?” he said and whipped his hands from Cas’ hold, expecting it to be harder than it was. He stared at Cas’ hands in the air for a second after he’d let go of Dean and then he stood up, moving to the left to avoid standing on Cas. “Why do you get to demand-?”

“Because I came back!” Cas shouted and turned his head to look at Dean standing with his back to the back of the couch. The smell of Chinese food still hung in the air but Dean knew he could smell spilled beer more.

“You came back?” he asked, trying to keep the bile from rising in his throat, and crossed his arms over.

“Yes,” Cas said and turned on the spot, lowering himself to the vacated chair. “You slammed me into a door, Dean.”

Dean looked the other way, shaking his head as if Cas was in the wrong. “That’s not fair,” he said and looked to Cas.

“Not fair?” Cas asked, his eyes widening. “Do you know what that’s called?” Cas asked. “Aggravated assault.”

“Actually it’s a simple assault because there was minor harm and no weapons were used by the suspect-”

“By you!” Cas shouted. “No weapons were used by you, Dean!”

Dean closed his eyes and lifted his hands to cover them as he scrunched his features. “I know!” he said. “God, I know.”

Cas inhaled and shifted, standing up. “Dean-”

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, shaking his head and taking a step back, banging into the couch.

“Dean-” Cas took a step forward.

“No,” Dean said, stepping to his right and backing away from Cas.

“Dean, stop,” Cas said and stepped forward quicker than Dean, grabbing him by the arms. “Stop, listen.”

“Let go!” Dean shouted and struggled against him.

Cas pushed him away from him and they both stood staring at each other. “I will not stand here and be the alpha that restrains the omega so listen to me!” his voice rose as he spoke to a command and Dean stopped breathing on the last word.

Cas calmed himself and when he spoke again his voice was quiet but not as calm as it had been. “It’s okay,” Cas nodded and Dean shook his head, his eyes wide with fear, not of Cas but of what he knew he was about to say. “Yes, it is. You didn’t mean it.”

“Don’t do that,” Dean said. “Don’t just let it go because I’m a helpless little omega who can’t control his heat-”

“You’re not on your heat,” Cas reminded.

“Isn’t that worse?” Dean asked.

Cas didn’t answer for a second and then said, “No. Because if you were on your heat it’d mean that all the progress we’d made together would have been wasted. You pushed me for one reason – you can’t handle your emotions. And you can’t handle them because at some point in your life someone – maybe more than one person – someone told you that it wasn’t okay to cry. They told you you weren’t allowed to be angry, you weren’t allowed to be turned on.” Dean looked away. “Look at me, Dean.” Dean hesitated then did. “Someone told you that you had to push it down, didn’t they?” He paused and lifted his eyebrows. “They did, didn’t they?”

Dean nodded. “Stow your crap,” he said.

“They told you to get on with it,” Cas said.

“Deal,” Dean amended. “Told me to deal.”

“Who?” Cas asked. “Who told you to stow your crap and deal, Dean?” He waited but Dean looked at him wide-eyed, as if he were too scared to move. “Who told you that it wasn’t okay to cry, what did they say? What about when you got aroused, Dean? That wasn’t okay either, was it?”

Dean looked down. “Only babies whine,” he said and then looked up. “No one said I couldn’t be-” He gestured his head to Cas. “You know. It just felt like I shoulda been ashamed. I _didn’t have time for that._ ” He looked to Cas again who knew he’d been quoting someone purely from the change in his tone. “I wasn’t allowed to be afraid either, I had a gun what did I need to be afraid of.”

“What about when you were a kid?” Cas asked. “Didn’t your mom-?”

“I was a kid,” Dean said and felt his throat try to close up and he inhaled hard, like he’d learned to do, to reassure his brain he could breathe. “My mom died, long time again, when I was ‘bout four. I was five when my dad handed me a .45, told me to stop whining and go to sleep.”

“Your dad?” Cas asked. “Your dad told you not to be afraid of the dark?”

Dean shrugged. “He was right, fear, crying, everything, it’s for babies and girls.”

Cas shook his head. “Dean, emotions are for human beings!” He stepped forward quickly and Dean stepped away. “When you get angry what do you do about it? Now, at this age, what do you do?”

Dean shrugged. “I drink, or I go to the shooting range,” he said and shrugged again. “What do you do?”

“I work through it, Dean. I let myself feel it and I try to resolve it.”

“Sounds exhausting,” he said.

“What I don’t do is push people,” he said and Dean lowered his head, no false bravado this time, sheer pain. “Oh, Dean,” he stepped forward, quicker than Dean could move away, just as Dean started to cry again. “Dean-” He put both of his hands on Dean’s shoulders.

“Stop it,” Dean said. “You’re right, I’m a monster-”

“What? No!” Cas said.

“I am!” Dean said and looked up at him. “I’m no better than my bails, than the perverts. Than- Than Benny!”

“Hey!” Cas shouted and Dean’s face fell to shock as he noticed that, in a blink, Cas’ features had morphed into something hard and angry. “Don’t you every say that again.”

“But-”

Cas gently shook him, just enough to shut him up. “Never again.”

Dean just swallowed and nodded. “Yessir,” he said, thinking of his dad.

Cas’ face relaxed. “Is that what you’d say?” he asked. “Dean, is that what replaced tears or fear or-” Dean nodded. “Dean, I don’t want to make you feel bad, far from it, I want you to understand that because you’ve never been taught how to deal with your emotions you don’t know how to act, how to express them.” He half-laughed in disbelief and Dean looked at him. “For God’s sake, you think that to shout at you is the only way to how I care because that’s how your family does it.”

“It’s normal to us,” Dean said.

“Is what you did to me-” Dean shook his head. “Okay, then we have to work on that.”

Dean’s mouth opened as he looked at Cas. “We?”

Cas exhaled too. “Yes, we!” he put his right hand on Dean’s face. “Do you think a little assault is gonna make me leave?” he smiled.

Dean shook his head. “Don’t joke about that, that’s not funny.”

Cas’ smile fell. “No, it’s not. But I don’t know how else to make you feel better.”

“Do I need to feel better?” Dean asked. “Can’t I just be sad right now?”

Cas nodded, smiling ever so slightly but not happily, as he said, “Yes, yes, you can.” He pulled him into a hug. “Of course you can.”

Dean held him back, feeling much more than sadness but deciding it was a good start.

In the end Dean had exhausted himself. He knew it was emotional exhaustion but he’d be damned if he was going to admit it, even just to himself. But Cas understood and even though he wasn’t tired he went to bed too.

Dean didn’t roll into the vulnerable position and Cas didn’t even attempt to make him. However, just before sleep took him he heard Dean sniff and it woke him up just a little.

“I’m really sorry, Cas,” Dean said softly. “I know that doesn’t make it right but I want you to know I am.”

“I know, Baby,” Cas replied, his somnolent voice soft in the quiet of the night. “I do.”

The light from the Walmart nearby was pushing against the blind over the window and giving the baseball bat an outline. The both stared at the ceiling and fell asleep that way.

When Dean woke up in the night with a start he didn’t say a word as he stumbled out of the room holding his breath, his hand fumbling to his right and eventually closing around the baseball bat. As it contacted the side of the bed and nightstand Cas stirred but didn’t wake and he was still asleep when Dean came back, face washed and anxiety temporarily settled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify; assault is never okay. Ever. If someone assaults you - leave. A lot happens in this series that is not kosher, a lot I would walk away from (such as what Cas does when Dean is passed out in one of the previous parts) what you have to remember - along side that this is an ABO au and therefore additional considerations need to be taken in a society unlike our own - is that a lot of stuff happens in SPN that is morally not okay. The brothers lie, murder, steal, commit fraud, impersonate law officers, trespass, desecrate graves, mutilate corpses and many many more. So, in this I try to incorporate that 'not quite our reality' feel to it. That doesn't mean I agree with any of this. Cas stays because he's Cas and this is a story and sometimes we stay when we shouldn't. Speaking as someone who has had someone pull their fist back in my face - do not explain it away. A bad childhood or going through stuff does not give anyone the right to attack you. Bare in mind this was not an accident - he did not try to grab Cas to stop him and push him by accident, he full on pushed him in anger. 
> 
> I just wanted to clear that up, I don't mean to be preachy and I hope it didn't come across that way but it's a very serious thing and I don't want anyone thinking I'm trying to condone it. I'm just telling a story and not all stories are good ones, just like not all characters are good and not all choices are good. But this is fiction, not real life. Like Jared says - you are enough. And you don't deserve anything less than the best.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to post again until next year but I figure if I post now I might stop myself from making the "omg I haven't posted since last year" joke. Which I will most probably still make. It's hilarious okay.

Cas woke up to the sound of an alarm to his left and he briefly thought he was in his house, in his bedroom, and needed to be up for work. His face tightened in distaste.

Dean dragged himself up and rolled over onto his front as he reached out his right arm to shut that damn thing up since he didn’t have a case. As soon as Dean’s front contacted with Cas’ they both remembered where they were and who with. While Dean froze in panic Cas thanked God he was with Dean here instead of home alone. Dean felt warmth on his sides as Cas put his hands on either side and then moved his left up and into Dean’s hair.

“Good morning,” Cas mumbled before he kissed Dean’s neck just as Dean flicked the alarm switch to off.

Dean’s eyes fluttered as his skin buzzed where Cas’ lips dragged over the top, his movements were just about as precise as he was anywhere near properly awake; not at all.

“I musta put it on by accident,” Dean explained. “I didn’t meant to-” He exhaled as his eyes closed and Cas’ right hand ran up his back then down over his buttocks again.

“S’okay,” Cas muttered and Dean felt him put more pressure into his kiss.

“Cas-” Dean’s hand slipped against the nightstand and he hit his elbow on the frame of the bed as he tried to bring it back to his body and the noise echoed. He saw himself pushing Cas’ back and his head contacting with the door. “Cas, stop, no.”

Cas opened his eyes and pulled back into the pillow to look up at Dean who pressed his hand into the mattress to hold himself up. “What’s wrong?” Cas asked, sleep fading from his features to make way for concern.

Dean looked down and swallowed, unable to meet Cas’ eyes. “I-”

“Dean, don’t,” Cas said but when Dean’s eyes moved to his he saw how pained they were and so he exhaled sadly. “I understand if you don’t want me to touch you-”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to,” Dean said.

“Then what’s wrong?” Cas asked and when Dean looked down he saw guilt there. “Dean, you don’t earn my touch.” Dean looked up again. “You-” He exhaled through his nose. “I’m still here, Dean, and like I said I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to but guilt isn’t healthy. I haven’t stayed so that you can feel guilty for the rest of our-” He hesitated. “For as long as we know each other.”

Dean looked down again, more hesitantly, and more from sadness than anything. He was right: there was an end to this and it wouldn't be because of old age.

Cas watched him and then softly said, “Do you want me to go?” Dean looked up again, his features tense in hurt. “I don’t mean because you don’t want to- I mean because if you can’t get passed this then we won’t and-”

Dean’s own features tensed into pain and he shook his head gently. “No, Cas,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to go.”

Ever, hung in the air.

“But you don’t want me to touch you?” Cas asked.

“It’s not that. You’re right I- I feel like I don’t deserve it,” Dean said, in a whisper.

“I can’t say I’m over it, what happened, because that would be a lie. But I am willing to try and move passed it, together,” Cas looked between Dean’s eyes, seeing guilt still there. “I meant it, Dean. You don’t earn me kissing you, you don’t earn sexual activities.”

“What do I earn, Cas?” Dean said anxiously, looking between Cas’ eyes. “How do I fix it?”

“I told you, we’ll work on it,” Cas said. “We’ll work on expression and if you earn anything back, Dean, it’s trust. But I’m still here, I still trust you, I still care about you.”

“You do?” Dean asked.

“Of course I do,” Cas said. “That doesn’t stop because you had one outburst of anger, because your intent matters. If you’d punched me in the face this would have a very different outcome. As long as we can work on it and you’re willing to do that-”

“Yes,” Dean said quickly and nodded. “Anything. I never want to do that again. Ever.” He looked down then up. “Stupid question but I guess this means that pulling a gun isn’t healthy either?”

“What?” Cas asked, Amara quickly flashing in his mind. Somehow he didn't think that was what he was referring to and he tried to sit up a little. “When-?”

Dean shrugged, almost scared. “I guess me and Sam don’t know how to work stuff out like other people.”

Cas laughed once, only because he didn’t know how to respond to that. When Dean looked up to him he shook his head, still with a dumbfounded smile on his face. “No, pulling a gun on someone is not expression in any way, Dean.”

Dean nodded, smiling bashfully. “Good to know the rules,” he said, and Cas knew he was trying for bravado.

Cas leaned forward a little and kissed him, smiling when Dean pushed into it, giving back. Dean’s lips moved to Cas’ neck and Cas exhaled, thinking how just one word could cause such ripples that persisted throughout the years.

>><< 

A couple of hours later Cas was sitting on the couch in the sitting room, Dean had wordlessly disappeared into what Cas assumed was his office some time before, leaving Cas to watch daytime TV.

As he lifted his water bottle to his lips he realized it was empty and stood. “Dean, do you want a drink?” he asked with a raised voice so that it would carry but when Dean didn’t answer he went to the open doorway and stopped, looking inside.

Dean sat on a desk chair in front of a desk facing the wall the room shared with his bedroom however Dean and his chair was facing the living room area.

“Dean, do you want anything; a drink or something to eat?”

“No,” Dean grunted, sounding irritated as he looked up, only to reach over to a printer, pick up the sheets waiting and read them.

“Are you okay?” Cas asked.

“Yup,” Dean said curtly and turned away to the laptop on the desk, turning his back on Cas as if hinting to be left alone.

“What are you doing?” Cas tried and stepped into the office.

“I’m-” Dean sighed and sat back in his chair, dropping the pages to the desk. “I’m trying to find a case, alright?” He turned in the chair and looked at Cas with his eyebrows high in question, Cas read it quite defensive. Dean tensed, ready for the onslaught, ready for Cas to start in at him, chastising him and denying him the release he needed.

“Okay,” Cas said and turned, walking out of the room with nothing else said.

Dean blinked at the empty space where Cas had been and then stood up, following him out of the room to see him walking, around the side of the armchair and couch, towards the kitchen with an empty bottle of water in his hand.

“That’s it?” Dean asked.

Cas halted his in movements, mid-step, turning to look at Dean questioningly. “I’m sorry?”

“Just ‘okay’?” Dean asked, shrugging his shoulders in disbelief.

Cas slowly continued to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door as he looked over it to Dean. “What did you want me to say?” he asked as he leaned to put the empty bottle in the recycling under Dean’s sink and take a fresh bottle from the fridge shelf and closed the door, standing facing Dean and opening the bottle.

“Well, not ‘okay’!” Dean said as Cas took a drink of the water, his head to the right side but his eyes on Dean as he stepped to the left, between the armchair and coffee table, stopping in front of the couch. “Shout at me, tell me it’s a dumb idea and then, I don’t know, refuse to talk to me until I agree.” He shrugged but his facial expression told Cas he was the idiot for not knowing that.

Cas lowered the bottle as his brow did the same. “Why would I do that?

“B- Well, because that’s what-”

Cas replaced the cap and began to twist it as he spoke, “That’s what everyone else does,” Cas finished for him.

“Yeah!” Dean said.

Cas stepped forward. “Dean, this may only have totaled a few weeks between us but I like to think I know you to a certain extent. So, if this is how you _deal_ ,” he said, pointedly, "with Am-"

“Don’t say her name,” Dean said as if his throat were about to close up. He didn’t want to hear her name ever again and if Cas could have spoken to Sam or Bobby he’d find out that for years he didn’t want to hear Benny’s either.

“With everything that’s happening,” Cas amended with only a small pause. “If that’s how you _deal_ with it then that’s what happens.” He paused, looking at Dean. “Just-” He sighed. “Just please don’t get shot.”

Dean’s face tensed for a millisecond before it relaxed again. “Please don’t get shot?”

Cas’ eyes narrowed. “You’re a bounty hunter, Dean. What do you want?”

“I want you to tell me this is a dumb idea!” Dean exclaimed.

“Then it’s a dumb idea,” Cas said with a nod. “Don’t do it.”

“Screw you,” Dean said, turning to walk back to the office.

Cas stretched his arms out wide as his eyes widened too. “You are the most confusing element I have ever encountered!”

Dean turned. “Oh yeah?” he asked defensively.

“Yes!” Cas said with a nod that said he was asking a stupid question.

“My brother would never let me pick up a gun if I was upset like this,” he said, pointing to himself.

“I’m not you brother!” Cas shouted back. “I’m-!” He paused. “I’m-!”

They stared at each other.

Dean’s eyes never moved; he wanted Cas to blurt out whatever he had clamped his jaw down on. Cas could feel it, he knew Dean wanted to know what the end of that sentence would be but the truth was that Cas didn’t know what word came next or he probably would have screamed it in this man’s face. This infuriating man who made his blood boil but his face smile.

Dean realized he wasn’t going to finish his sentence when he cast his eyes to the floor in front of Dean’s feet and Cas missed the disappointment that flashed there.

“Look,” Cas said calmly, “you’re an adult, Dean. I’m not here to tell you what to do.” He looked up to Dean. “That doesn’t mean that I don’t care!” He couldn’t help it; he’d started off the sentence calm but it grew into a yell and that continued into the next sentence, “Has anyone ever told you that you and your brother have a weird-ass relationship?”

“Yeah, maybe!” Dean yelled back.

There was a silence and then Cas laughed, looking to the side, out of the window and when he looked back Dean smiled too.

“I just-” Dean started.

“You need confrontation,” Cas interrupted, his smile falling. “I just don’t know if I can keep supplying it, Dean.”

Dean’s own smile fell. “I don’t need it,” he said and walked, around the armchair, towards him.

Cas’ eyes searched him disbelievingly as he turned to face him. “Dean-”

“I don’t, I dont _need_ it, I’m just used to it. My dad yelled at me and Sam, took everything out on us. I guess that’s why I was drawn to- to Benny, because it wasn’t like that. Being at home was like an assault course or a battlefield; constantly ducking and diving. But Benny, it was all up here.” He tapped his temple. “I mean, it was a minefield, it was still ducking and diving but it didn’t leave me bleeding from various orifices.” He seemed to realize he’d gotten off track and looked back to Cas. “I just don’t get it yet.”

There it was again – yet.

“You don’t get what?” Cas asked.

“You. Us. How things are _meant_ to be,” Dean said as he stepped closer to Cas, right in front of him. “So, if I took a case right now you wouldn’t be mad?”

Cas shook his head. “No,” he said and then his head tilted a little to his right. “Since when did it matter to you whether I was mad or not?”

Dean looked over his face, not sure he knew the answer himself. He looked to the side, rubbing his neck as he chuckled embarrassed and took a step back. “Must be all this heat stuff, getting into the omega and alpha roles, huh?”

Cas watched him. “And you need my permission to do your job?”

Dean looked up, face tensing in anger. “No!”

Cas nodded slightly. “You’ve already found a case, haven’t you? That’s why you’re annoyed.”

Dean’s features softened in shock that Cas already knew and then his piercing gaze made Dean feel like he may as well say it. “Registered sex offender skipped bail, broke her conditions.”

“Her?” Cas asked, raising his eyebrows a little.

“Yeah, women do it too,” Dean shot back, looking down and away from Cas. “But this time she’s supposedly staying at a safe house in town.”

“A safe house?”

“For S.Os,” Dean said. “Sex offenders. Cops are always finding them and busting ‘em but they don’t have the resources to hunt them all down. They close one down and another opens up, it’s too much to keep on top of even though they try. That’s where I come in.” He tilted his head. “Well, me and my C.Is.”

Cas didn’t asked what they were. “You’re not going without backup?”

“I’ll be fine,” Dean assured him dismissively, then moved to walk towards the kitchen.

Cas turned and followed him. “No, Dean,” he said and Dean stopped, turning to face him, them only a step away from where they had been. “I won’t even try to stop you going on a case, you deal with this however you need to but I won’t stand here and let you-”

“Let me?” Dean asked, incredulous.

Cas kept going without acknowledging what he’d said, knowing that if he could just get his point out then maybe Dean would listen to him. “-go to a safe house potentially full of hostile sex offenders who don’t want to go back to prison and have nothing to lose all on your own.” He paused and exhaled, feeling better for having been able to get it all out. “That _is_ dumb and you know it.”

Dean opened his mouth to argue, like he might with Sam. However, listening to the way that Cas said it he thought about what he’d do if Sam was telling him about this as his job – going into a drug den on his own when he was upset and needed a win – and he couldn’t deny it sounded dumb when it was laid out like that. In fact, it sounded like a suicide mission.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean said and he saw the tension melt from Cas’ face.

“Really?” he asked. “You’re not just saying that?” Dean laughed once in confusion. “Then going on your own anyway.”

Dean laughed and looked down before he looked back up. “Not this time.”

Cas smiled a little. “If you ever do that-” He pointed to Dean and then paused before he curled his fingers inward and let his hand fall momentarily before he reached out and, stepping towards him, cupped Dean’s head. “Please don’t do that.” He didn’t even wait for an answer and kissed him, he hummed in question.

“I won’t,” Dean whispered before they kissed again.

 

Cas was finishing washing up the dishes in the sink and never missed his dishwasher more than that week. He was engaged in a battle between cheese and detergent and so sensed movement behind him as Dean walked from his bedroom to his office but didn’t turn.

There was a metallic thud and Dean emerged, putting his gun into his holster on his hip and walked towards the kitchen.

Cas heard him. “Are you sure you don’t want me to leave?” he asked.

Dean fixed his shirt as he walked. “No, I shouldn’t be more than a few hours.” He rounded the dining table and got to the door as Cas grabbed the dish towel and dried his hands, putting his battle with the blob of cheese on hold.

Dean grabbed his jacket, throwing it on as he stood in front of the mirror behind the door and turned his head from side to side, eyeing up the bits of his hair he would fix when he’d settled his jacket on.

Cas watched him; Dean put his left arm in his jacket then lifted his right as he pushed it into the other, making it lift up and take his shirt with it a little, Cas’ eyes automatically went to the skin on show there and then lifted to Dean’s face. He’d not seen Dean in his usual clothes in a while; that first day in the garage, and the next, and the first time they’d- He bit his lip. He thought about when he’d met Dean at seventeen, he’d been wearing pretty much the same but he didn’t have muscle like he did now, he wasn’t as tanned. He could tell the difference when Dean climbed over him and said his name. His voice was deeper too. The voice of a man, the body of a man too. He watched him turn and look at him.

“What?” Dean said.

“Nothing,” Cas said and turned away from him.

“Is it my hair?” Dean asked and turned back to the mirror, looking for the one bit that he was always worried he’d missed, the one bit Sam always said was sticking up just to annoy him.

“No, it looks- Your hair is good,” Cas stuttered and folded up the towel, not sure what to do with it then dumped it on the side.

Dean picked up his keys and fixed his collar as he walked towards him. “Say again?” he asked.

Cas turned and pointed, shaking. “Your hair looks g- You look go- Everything you’re wearing looks-” He refused to look at Dean, opting to look at the refrigerator.

Dean smiled as he stopped a step away from him. “Okay, why can’t you look at me and say that, maybe even finish those sentences?”

Cas cast his eyes downward at his feet. “I can-”

Dean stepped just a little closer, bending his knees just a little and dipping his head to the left to try and catch Cas’ eye. “But you’d rather tell the floor?”

Cas sighed and looked up at him as he straightened up. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dean said, continuing to smile. “What d’ya think?” He put his hands out.

“You know what I think,” Cas said, feeling his neck flush.

“I do?” Dean said, brow dipping in confusion. “Maybe I should ask the floor-”

Cas leaned forward and kissed Dean, resting a slightly damp but warm left hand on the side of his face. Dean went, if a little surprised, until Cas pulled back, staying close as he spoke low, “You look very attractive, now go before I decide you’re not going.” He looked down to Dean’s lips again.

Dean’s felt a twinge low down and considered if well-chosen words could hit the right spot he was off to good start.

Cas pushed him a little, trying to urge him to go but Dean just stared at him and then kissed him again, Cas’ hand easing off before he pushed him harder and Dean took a heavy step backwards. They both stared at each other until Dean licked his lips and Cas quickly turned, returning his attention to the cheese battle, trying to last long enough for Dean to leave.

Dean smirked a little to himself and stepped away, looking to Cas as he did, his eyes drifting down his back and over his buttocks as he leaned over the sink. “Keep talking like that-” His eyes lingered and so he transferred his keys to his left and hand and leaned towards Cas, using his right hand to smack his right buttock.

Cas tensed with the surprise and then looked over his shoulder at Dean who winked.

“And you’re the one that won’t be leaving,” he said and turned, walking to the door as Cas watched him open the door. “See ya soon, hon.” He smiled before he pulled it closed behind him.

Cas turned back to the sink, in mild shock. “Well, that made him happy.” He shook his head slowly before he let himself smile.

>><<

After the battle had been won and the cheese was defeated Cas had cleaned the kitchen properly and then sat down on the couch with a cup of coffee and watched something called _‘Housewives of New Jersey’_ and spent the entire first episode confused however it soon became clearer who everyone was and what their relationships were so by the third episode he was enthralled.

When it was finished he took his mug into the kitchen and looked out of the window onto the basketball court. It had just started to rain but the boys playing didn’t seem to mind and Cas thought back to the collective home he’d lived in.

He remembered playing softball with Lucifer, Gabriel, Conrad, Abner and some of the other boys. He also remembered the day that Lucifer broke Oren’s arm. He’d said it was an accident but they’d never seen Lucifer again after that. He was close to eighteen and, having presented as alpha at fifteen, he’d been moved to the ‘of age’ wing where Cas joined him a year later. Even though Cas hadn't presented a doctor had predicted alpha and as a result he was in a room with other predicts, just along the hall from the alphas. The alpha boys - and even the suspected alphas - were kept apart from the rest and Cas knew why. Everyone knew why. Just like everyone knew why Lucifer’s bat had come flying out of his hand and somehow hit Oren.

Because he’d said no.

Cas closed his eyes and grabbed onto the edge of the sink.

Lucifer was one of the few alphas who listened to ‘no’ but he didn’t like hearing it.

Cas remembered looking at Lucifer as the rest gathered around Oren and saw him smirk. That look on his face had haunted him along with Samandriel’s.

And then he thought about walking into his bedroom and seeing Amara looking to him as he rounded her. Her eyes were alive with hatred, as if he were being insolent. It was the same look Lucifer had had on his face before Cas had dragged him away from Virgil a few months before.

He wondered what Benny had looked like when it was obvious that Dean wasn’t meeting him that night.

He wondered what this bail Dean was chasing would look like when he put cuffs on her.

He shook his head and walked to the bedroom to busy himself with cleaning up. He made the bed, tidied up the clothes they had thrown everywhere around the apartment, smelled his own clothes and decided to shower anyway.

He stepped into the water and closed his eyes to the warmth of the water and then dipped his head to let the water run through his hair. He inadvertently thought about the last time he’d been in here with Dean. Memories of moaning and pleasure jumped into his brain and he looked down as the water ran down his face, neck and back. Then he thought about the way Dean had looked before he’d left, before he’d smacked Cas' buttock and then winked, as if coming on to him.

And then Cas was pursing his lips together, he knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t help himself. He wrapped his hand around his dick and slowly pumped it into life – although, it didn’t take much to do so. He turned his back and leaned against the tile, letting the shower run over his right shoulder and planted his feet firm on the water ground as he continued.

It’s not like he hadn’t done this before, thinking about Dean, but this somehow felt different. He wasn’t saying there wasn’t still lust there. He exhaled hard and groaned just thinking about it, Dean made his brain swirl with the thought. And yet somehow this was something more. He couldn’t deny that that might have something to do with what they were doing. Was it getting through heats together? It had been, but now he really didn’t know anymore.

He moaned and let the images run through his head. He couldn’t decide; Dean against these tile, Dean on his knees, Dean putting him against the tile, in Dean’s car, on Dean’s couch, in Dean’s bed.

Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean.

“Dean,” he muttered and then let go, turning on the spot and leaning his head against the wet, damp tile, screwing his eyes closed as his breathing began to calm. “Stop,” he breathed.

He didn’t want to think about Dean, he wanted to just- What? Why was he doing this? Because Dean drove him mad, that’s why, in so many ways.

“Stop it!” he yelled at himself and lifted his left hand to the tile, in a tight fist, bearing his teeth and suddenly feeling so angry.

When had this become more than heats? He had tried not to let emotions into what they were doing and he thought he had been succeeding. He wanted to know when that had all gone to hell but he wasn’t sure he could ever have picked out a specific moment.

He wanted to convince himself that he was wrong that this wasn’t emotional but then he only had to look around him to know that couldn’t possibly be true.

“Why I am here?” he whispered to himself.

And why was he? Dean wasn’t on his heat and didn’t seem to be getting there any time soon and so why was he still there? At first they were waiting for it to catch them up but then, when it didn’t, what had happened? They’d kissed. They’d done more than that.

Cas had even asked Dean what they were doing-

“We were just doing this,” Dean said and kissed him in his memories.

-and why?

“Because it’s nice, because we want to, because we can and because why not?”

Cas grunted to himself and squeezed his fist before he lowered his right hand to his dick again and slowly stroked, but he quickly picked up the spped. In facet, he began to  stroke furiously, angry with himself for what he was doing. His eyes were closed tight and his left hand stayed clenched, slipping on the tile.

He knew Dean would be angry if he knew what Cas was thinking, about them possibly being more than just – what was it? – ‘friends with benefits’. He knew he’d yell, throw his arms around and throw him out. This isn’t what the deal was, why was he trying to ruin a good thing?

Cas kept stroking, hard and fast, his own groans ripping from him in escaped exhales he was trying to keep in. he tried to keep his thoughts on sex just as hard and fast. He tried to think about Dean gripping the sheets and moaning for him to go faster and harder or get out.

It took Cas so long to come he was almost ready to give up but then an image popped into his head – Dean telling him it was okay to want what or who he wanted before kissing him – and Cas exhaled a desperate, "No," as he leaned his forehead against the tile as he came.

The only sound was his heavy breathing and the water running over him to the floor. He lifted his other hand and put it on the tile too.

He thought about what Meg would say and he shook his head, he wasn’t going to call her, she’d already have questions for him the next time they spoke, he didn’t want to give her more ammunition.

But he did have an idea of what she’d say or ask; she’d ask him about why he was so scared of showing emotions or even feeling them.

He shook his head again before he started cleaning the shower up then continued to clean himself up, trying not to think about it. But as he washed and dried he wondered if he’d in fact been too rough with himself as his penis was a little sensitive.

 

He sat on the couch watching another set of reality TV shows and game shows in a towel. It wasn’t until the sun started to set and the air grew colder than he realized he hadn’t dressed yet. He stood up, lifting the now dry towel with him and hoping that Dean’s couch wouldn’t smell like damp. He dressed and then foraged in the kitchen for something to eat.

He checked his watch and idly wondered if Dean would be okay before looking back to the fridge.

He wasn’t sure if he should make something for Dean or not and so, when he settled on pasta, he made enough for two.

He sat on the couch and ate, wishing he had his laptop with him so that he could get some work done.

He looked to his jacket and then rounded the couch to get his cell phone, as he opened it he thought about calling Dean and quickly dismissed it before checking his missed calls.

When he realized he had one from his assistant his brow dipped as he checked the time again and dialed her.

 _“Becky’s phone,”_ a male voice said on the end.

Cas thought he recognized it but didn’t get a chance to speak before there was a scuffle on the end, some muffled words and then Becky spoke.

 _“Mr Novak’s office, Becky Rosen speaking. How may I help you?”_ she said.

“Becky it’s Castiel,” he said.

 _“Sir!”_ she said in a panicked voice. _“How can I help you?”_

“Is this a bad time?” he asked.

 _“No, not at all, sir. I was just taking a short break before transcribing the meetings from last week.”_ She stuttered, _“I meant to do it sooner but I thought since you were on leave and they couldn’t go out without your approval so-”_

“Becky, it’s fine. You know what you’re doing, I trust you,” he said.

 _“Thank you, sir,”_ she replied, evidently smiling.

“I just noticed that I had a missed call from you and wondered if everything was alright. I apologize for not returning the call sooner but I have only just noticed it.”

_“Oh, that’s perfectly alright, sir. I realize I shouldn’t have bothered you on leave-”_

“Honestly, it’s okay. What’s wrong?”

 _“It’s file…”_ She stretched out the word and Cas heard ruffling on the other end, she was clearly looking for something. _“Yeah, file five, subsection eighteen.”_ Castiel looked up to the side, trying to remember what she could be talking about. _“There’s some inconsistencies in the original sums and the sum totals, they don’t match the calculations.”_

“Is it a mistake?” Cas asked.

 _“I-”_ Becky hesitated on the other end, and although Cas couldn’t see Becky was looking at the man standing next to her who was now taking a great interest in what she was about to say. _“I don’t think so, sir.”_

“How so?”

 _“I don’t know, you should really check it, but there’s something…”_ Cas heard ruffling on the other end as the man next to her took the papers and tried to read them.

“What?” Cas asked.

 _“I can’t pinpoint it, there is just something off about it,”_ she said.

“Okay, I appreciate it, I’ll look when I get back. Will it keep?”

 _“Yeah,”_ Becky said. _“It’ll be fine.”_

“Okay,” Cas nodded. “Is everything else alright?” he asked.

_“Yeah, oh, yeah, everything is great.”_

“Well, I should go,” Cas said and looked around. “Let you get back to work.”

They said their goodbyes and Cas couldn’t help but wonder if there was something else Becky wanted to say but not in front of whoever she was with.

He checked his texts and found a thank you text from Zachiariah, a catch-up text from Joshua, a text from his network provider (something about their terms and conditions changing soon), and another text from Maurice asking him to get in touch and let him know he’s okay.

Cas briefly thought about Maurice. He was a kid from his old neighborhood he used to play with, his father had been invalided from the army and his mama used to make sure he was okay every few days, when Cas was older he and Maurice used to ride their bicycles to the grocery store and shop for them. Maurice was always a little embarrassed about doing it but Cas loved it, it was like an adventure and they’d race there and back. Sometimes it was a lot of shopping so they would go multiple times but in the winter it was too cold to make multiple trips so they used to tie the heavy bags between their bikes and push them home, laughing all the way.

He smiled, Maurice was probably the only friend he’d ever had.

But when he’d presented as alpha his dad hadn’t wanted them to play together anymore. His mama still went over to make sure they were well but Cas soon stopped inquiring about his friend. Cas spent his childhood being discriminated against because of his presentation but that was the first time it'd really hit him. And that was why he could only ever answer Maurice with polite false promises and most probably why he never called Cas on them.

He sat quite some time thinking about his childhood and people he had known before he snapped out of it and actually paid attention to the TV. He didn’t even realize, when he stood to put his cell phone back in his coat pocket, that he hadn’t answered him.

He checked his watch again and found himself wandering around the room, thinking about the scar on Dean’s side from his stab wound. He then began to think about how Dean tried to shrug it off, as if it were nothing. He wondered if that was an indication of how dangerous his job was or a by-product of his father’s attitude; maybe Dean wasn’t allowed to treat these things as serious as they were.

Cas knew he’s be worried, that was normal. He nodded to himself, reassuring him that yes it was normal to worry about someone you cared about, especially when they have such a dangerous job. He knew that Dean could be away for days or weeks on jobs but he had indicated that he’d be back soon.

And then a though struck Cas with such an impact that he stopped dead.

Dead.

What if the worst happened and Dean-?

He shook his head and pulled out the kitchen chair to sit down in, leaning his hands on his knees, pushing his arms out straight, making his posture follow.

Dean’s job was dangerous, he might not survive his case, that was true; but that wasn’t what had made Cas suddenly feel nauseous.

What had was the knowledge that no one in Dean’s life knew about Cas so if that did happen…

“No one would tell me,” Cas whispered to himself.

 

He had ended up lying on the couch with a water and had had to turn the TV volume up to cover music from upstairs. The apartment had gotten dark around him and while the music upstairs had gone off Castiel hadn’t turned the volume down because he’d drifted off to sleep wondering if Dean's family would find out about him when his brother came back to his brother's apartment to clear out his stuff.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year! 
> 
> I won't lie, I only proofread half of this, purely because I keep getting distracted and if I don't post it now I won't do it for weeks. So, I apologise if there are mistakes, I will try to fix them in the coming days!
> 
> Everyone ready to board the Dean-Cas frustration train again! Awesome, let's go, bitches! *whistle*

It was just after one the in the morning when Dean dragged himself up the stairs to his apartment, he sighed when he reached his landing in relief and then got to his front door. He stopped with his key in hand when he heard his TV blaring through the door. He was surprised that his neighbors hadn't been complaining. His brow dipped; the apartment had looked dark from the street.

He suppressed the bad scenarios that rushed through his mind and then opened the door.

The apartment was in pitch darkness as he'd expected except the TV which was playing reruns of _Jackass_ and Dean closed his door before running to the TV to turn the volume down. He turned his head and saw in the light from the TV that Cas was lying asleep on his couch.

“How the hell’d you sleep through that?” Dean muttered to himself.

He turned the TV off and waited for a few seconds while his eyes started to adjust to the darkness, broken only by the light coming in the window from the balcony.

He went back to the door, taking his jacket off as he walked and locked the door, pulling the chain across then hung his jacket up. He quietly walked to the office and put his gun away in the safe, turning the light off as he exited the room. He walked between the armchair and coffee table, he bumped it with his shin so he figured Cas must have moved it closer to the couch. Cas was lying on his left, facing the TV so he turned, facing the window, and edged his buttock onto the couch, in the curve Cas’ hips made, and slowly lowered to it, putting his left hand on the couch too.

“Cas?” he said in a hushed voice and then considered the TV; if that didn’t wake him how was he going to? He leaned down, kissing his cheek. “Cas, honey, I’m back,” he said.

Cas hummed but otherwise didn’t move.

Dean exhaled through his nose and decided to leave him so kissed his cheek again and, as he stood, he grabbed the blanket that sat over the back of the couch and pulled it over Cas.

He went to the bathroom to have a quick shower to wash off the hunt, like he always did. The warm water felt good after three foot chases and two near-death experiences; one when a gun was stuck in his face and the second when a dog was within an inch of biting his ass off. He scrubbed the skin and knew it’d hurt tomorrow but it had been worth it.

He dried, brushed his teeth and took another tablet, looking to the doorway before he did so. After which he walked naked to his bedroom, looking at Cas as he did so, he could see he’d turned onto his right to face the couch. He smiled and walked into his room, closing the door over and got into bed with a relieved sigh.

He thought about the way she’d pleaded with him, told him that she was a changed person, that she had read a book, that she was on a cleanse. Dean had thought about Cas and that had made him angry; she and Cas were _nothing_ alike. She was sick. She was poison. She was-

Dean closed his eyes and turned on his side, refusing to keep going over it in his head. She was in jail now, awaiting her trial, and that was that. His job ended at the desk.

He looked to the sky and the light from the _Walmart_ sign and wondered how someone like that could ever think they’d change. How can anyone with charges like hers think anyone would give them a second chance? That they’d deserve one!

He exhaled hard and looked up to the baseball bat sitting against his nightstand. Then he closed his eyes and tried to get to sleep. Usually, after his bounties, he’d be glad for a cheeseburger, a shower and a good night’s sleep. That was when he slept the longest, after a good bust.

And yet Dean tossed and turned for over an hour. He felt restless, he felt the beginnings of a headache and he felt alone. Usually he didn’t care about sleeping alone but he was very aware that Cas was out there on his couch.

It was nearly three in the morning when he’d put the blind down, it felt like an age after that that he'd found himself tangled in his sheets and his hair all over the place. He leaned up to fix his pillow, couldn’t move his knee to the right place and so rolled around trying to free himself from the sheets. He got more and more agitated and then had had enough.

“No, screw this,” he muttered, managed to aggressively free himself, and then walked to his door, still naked. He pulled it open and stalked over to the couch where Cas was still facing the back of the couch, sleeping soundly. That was until Dean sat down heavily beside him and he jumped awake.

“Dean?” he mumbled as he turned his torso around. “What time is it?”

“Past three in the morning,” Dean said, grumpily.

“You’re just back?”

“No,” Dean said. “Been back a couple of hours. You need to move your butt to bed.” He gestured over his shoulder.

“What?” Cas said, confused.

“I can’t sleep, come on,” he stood and gestured with his arm.

“I need to urinate,” Cas croaked, only now registering that Dean was naked.

“Of course you do,” Dean said and pointed to the bathroom. “Leak then bed,” he ordered, then he turned on his heels to go to his bedroom, leaving the door open.

Cas stumbled to his feet and then walked to the bathroom to urinate and brush his teeth before he stepped out of the door, stopping and seeing the window to the balcony was open he decided to close it. He then walked to the bedroom to see Dean lying on his back and looking at him, the sheets pulled off on Dean’s left so that Cas could lie there. He closed the door behind him then walked to the bed, letting the top of his body fall forward, planting his hands in the mattress then lifted his knees to it.

He crawled into the bed and pulled the sheet across him. “How was it?” he asked as he settled beside him. “Did you catch her?”

“Yep,” Dean said, fixing the sheets around them and when he turned onto his left Cas did too.

“Did you get shot?” Cas asked as Dean wrapped his right arm around him, Cas took his hand, entwining their fingers.

“No,” Dean said, tucking his head in behind Cas’, kissing the back of his neck. He omitted the ‘nearly though’ from his answer.

“Stabbed?” Cas asked.

“Nope,” Dean mumbled, feeling himself falling asleep already.

“Good,” Cas answered, smiling, shifting his hips.

Dean opened his right eye, wondering what Cas was doing, but when he stopped it was clear he was just getting comfortable so Dean closed his eye again and pulled Cas closer.

There was less than a minute before Cas cleared his throat quickly.

“So, you couldn’t sleep without me?” he asked.

“You shut your face,” Dean said drowsily.

Cas smiled again and Dean squeezed his hand.

>><< 

When Dean roused the next day it was slowly and reluctantly. His eyes were protesting the light in the room before he’d even considered opening his eyes and he lifted his right arm up to cover them. He hissed when pain ran up his upper arm and shoulder and then sighed softly; it wasn’t as sore it usually was and he knew if he’d chosen a more tenacious fugitive he’d have been unable to lift his arm at all. But, if he’d done that it may well have taken days rather than hours and he’d needed a quick win. And he didn’t want to leave Cas for too long. He smiled tiredly as he remembered that not only was Cas still here but that he’d dragged him to bed.

He struggled to turn around, back to his left, in the bed and shuffled himself closer to the heat source next to him. He lifted the sheets so that they weren’t stuck in between them and let his right arm fall heavily on top of the sheets, curling around the lump in front of him, pulling it closer. He tucked his head in to block out as much of the light as possible, much to the delight of his retinas.

“Sleep well?” Cas mumbled sleepily and Dean hummed in reply. “Any sign of your heat?”

Dean shook his head slightly, grunting in answer. “Completely forgot ‘bout it,” he admitted.

“I thought maybe that was why you couldn’t sleep,” Cas said and Dean hummed. “What if you’d gone into heat yesterday, in the middle of your hunt?”

“Got instants,” Dean replied.

“What are instants?”

“Emergency instant heat suppressors,” Dean said, clearing his throat. “Only take half an hour to work.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows. “So you’ve really thought about this.”

“Kevin told me about them, he keeps ‘em in his go-bag.”

“What’s a go-bag?” Cas asked.

Dean exhaled audibly for a few seconds, not from irritation but purely because he was sluggish. “We all carry a bag of stuff we might need on every case.”

“What’s in yours?” Cas asked.

“Uh,” Dean said, trying to think which was evidenced by the quick tense of his forehead before the memory came and his face relaxed. “Scotch, needle ‘n’ thread, spare cash, copy of my licenses, contact list for agencies, a guy’s rag, toiletries-”

“What kind of toiletries?”

“Toothbrush, paste, shaver, cream-” He hesitated. “Pads, suppressants, that kind of thing. Underwear, socks." He shrugged with his right shoulder. “The usual.”

“And everyone’s is the same?”

“No,” Dean said. “They tend to be tailored to the case or the hunter. Everything I would need is in here-” He tapped his temple and replaced his arm around Cas, pulling him in again. “Or self-defense, bullets that kind of thing. Sam has his stupid iPod cable, a spare battery for it – I don’t know what it is, he carries it, it charges his iPod. Uh, tablets that induce vomiting, Adrenalin, other meds I can't pronounce, rubbers, dumb stuff.”

“Rubbers?” Cas asked, opening his eyes.

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled.

Cas paused before he asked, “Do you carry condoms?”

“No,” Dean answered, trying not to smile but Cas did, and closed his eyes again. “I can borrow from Sam.”

“What?” Cas asked, opening his eyes and turning his head.

Dean laughed. “What would I need rubbers for?”

“What does he need them for?” Cas asked, turning back to lie down again.

“He uses them like evidence bags, for needles and stuff. It’s easier and it means that if he has to work in ninja-mode he’s not easily rumbled.”

“Oh right,” Cas said.

“You can tell a lot ‘bout a hunter by what’s in their bag,” Dean mused.

“How so?”

“Well,” Dean leaned back a little, so he could talk properly, “Ash carries a spare hard drive, about three different USBs – he told me one was empty and the other two had codes on them, I don’t know – and a drink-drive test kit; Charlies carries a copy of ‘Lord of the Rings’, a list of companies that don’t pay tax, files on causes in the areas she’ll be in case she has time to lend a hand-”

“Wow,” Cas said.

“I know,” Dean agreed. “She also carries a costume that isn’t as kinky as it sounds. Garth carries spare spurs,” Cas’ brow dipped in confusion, “and that was all I needed to know about Garth’s bag.”

Cas smiled to himself. “I can’t believe that Sam only uses condoms for needles.” He turned a little, so that his back was right against Dean’s and they looked at each other.

“Oh, he’s dead serious about his job,” he said. “Although he did go through a phase.” Cas looked to him questioningly. “When he beat his- his addiction-”

Cas’s eyes widened. “His what?”

Dean tilted his head. “He got hooked on drugs when he was at school, at law school.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask about that,” Cas said and Dean looked at him. “He’s very young to have gone to law school.”

“He got a full ride when he was a kid. He was an AP student, whatever school he went to they moved him up classes, he was so smart.” He smiled. “He got a full ride when he was like seventeen.”

“Seventeen?” Cas asked, surprise evident in his voice.

“Yep, he was only there for like six months before I dragged him away in the middle of the night.”

Cas turned more. “Wait,” he chuckled. “He wasn’t old enough to be living on his own.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, like that mattered.” He shrugged. “Sam wanted to go and Dad told him not to come back, as far as the university were considered he had Dad’s supervision. Then Dad died and the law got involved or I woulda raised him myself but I got a criminal record so.” He shrugged again. “Bobby took us in and the rest is history.” He smiled. “Anyway, Sam picked it up from the stress of his course load, he was so scared of failing and proving Dad right that he turned to drugs, Jess didn't know. He kicked it, Bobby locked him in his panic room and we got him off it but then he went from one addiction to another.”

“What?” Cas asked seriously.

“You’re gonna laugh but-” He hesitated. “Sex.”

Cas’ eyebrows raised but he didn’t laugh.  “Sex?”

“Yeah, he slept with everything that moved, and I ain’t kidding, I saw some of the woman he’d slept with and I tell you.” He raised his eyebrows and looked away.

“That’s not nice,” Cas said. “Attraction is relative, perhaps he found them attractive.”

“No, listen, I know that what I’m attracted someone else won’t be and-” He lifted his hand to circle it in the air. “But he wasn’t interested in them or their looks or their brains or anything, he just wanted to have sex. He literally fucked it out of his system.” He laughed. “He even had one of those _Binge_ accounts.”

“What is _Binge_?” Cas asked.

“It’s a Beta-only dating app,” Dean said and shook his head. “Do you ever-?” He stopped and Cas looked to him again. “Do you ever wonder what that’d be like?”

“To have a beta-only-” Dean shook his head. “Oh, meaningless sex?” Cas asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said and looked to him.

While they looked at each it was Dean who was purposely maintaining eye contact, Cas could feel it holding him. He had the absurd notion that Dean wanted him to understand something and his words echoed in his head. He wondered if Dean was trying to convey to him that what they had - sex or otherwise - wasn't meaningless and firstly Cas wanted to laugh because there was never any question of this meaning nothing, but then secondly he worried that Dean wasn't conveying this for Cas' benefit, perhaps he wanted- needed Cas to confirm that it was the same for him. Cas felt sad at the idea that something he was so sure of, that what they shared meant something, wasn't so obvious to Dean.

“No, although I think it would be awful," he said and kept looking at Dean, hoping he understood.

Dean understood, he just didn't know what it meant now, what he'd do with the information.

"Do you?” Cas asked, to fill the silence and continue the conversation.

“I did,” Dean said and nodded once, “when he was doing it. I wondered what the appeal was, how he could trust people like that. He was on other apps too, it isn’t like he was only hooking up with betas.” His brow scrunched in confusion. “I still don’t understand it.”

Cas sighed and turned more towards him, so that he was leaning on his right, his head on Dean's shoulder. “Dean, doing this, with me, it can’t go on.” Dean looked to him, sure he felt his heart stop. “Not if you’re only doing it because you’re too scared to be with anyone else.”

“That’s not why I’m doing this,” he said, his face tightening slightly as his chest started thumping again. “It’s never been like that.”

“Never?” Cas asked, disbelieving.

“Maybe when I was seventeen, if we’d had sex then then I might not be able to argue that but we didn’t. It wasn’t like that the first time we had sex and it hasn’t been any time, Cas. Would we be here right now if it was?”

Cas hesitated. “It wasn’t?”

“No,” Dean said. “Like I said, when I was seventeen I didn’t want anyone but you to touch me but I was so scared I couldn’t swear, if we’d had sex, that it wasn’t in some part because I was scared of other alphas. But we didn’t. I’ve spent my entire life not touching anyone, Cas, I could be with another omega or a beta, but I’m not.” He scoffed. “Hell, I could ask you if you’re only here with me because you don’t trust yourself around anyone else. But I’m not. Because I’m not in heat and yet we’re still here, still lying here, we’ve had sex, we’ve done other stuff. I’ve left and you stayed here.” When he spoke again his voice was lower and more to himself. “How can you ask me that, Cas?” He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling.

Dean inhaled silently; every time he felt like he was even an inch closer to understanding what they had, maybe even what they could have, something happened and the feeling was swept away, leaving confusion or hurt or both in its place.

There was a tense silence between them but Dean didn’t take his arm from around Cas, if anything Cas felt him pull him closer.

“How’s your wound?” Cas managed to ask.

Dean paused before he said, “What wound?”

“Your stab wound,” Cas said.

“Oh yeah, it’s fine,” he said. “Damn shoulder is killing me though.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing, just muscle ache, that’s all,” Dean said, closing his eyes.

“But otherwise, you’re well?”

“Yeah, Cas, I’m fine.” Cas felt Dean’s hand run up his back and onto his left side. “What did you get up to last night?”

“I cleaned up a little, had dinner-” Cas thought about what had happened in the shower and ignored it. “And tried not to worry about you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Dean mumbled.

“I know, but I do,” Cas said.

“I know what I’m doing.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that you didn’t, but that doesn’t make me worry less,” Cas said.

Dean was quiet, he was running everything through his head. How could Cas think that he was only doing this because he was scared of alphas? If Cas thought that then he was kidding himself thinking this was anything more than what they’d originally agreed to. He knew there was a connection between them, something more than just physical attraction, he could hardly deny it, he’d shared more with this man than he even thought he had in him, never mind that he would consider sharing with anyone. An alpha no less. But he wasn’t just an alpha, was he? Jesus, Dean practically forgot he was an alpha and he was an omega until he tried to go down on Cas, he lifted Dean up, or he had started his heat or period. He forgot it because it wasn’t important and yet it wasn’t irrelevant either – it was just there, a part of them and those parts were okay. Cas made them okay.

But maybe it was just him.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” Cas asked when he looked to his face, seeing contemplation and worry there.

 “I-” Dean stopped himself. “Nothing,” he muttered but couldn’t quite bring himself completely out of his revere, he exhaled harshly. “I don’t understand and I don’t like not understanding.”

“What don’t you understand?” Cas asked.

Dean didn’t know what to say, only what he wanted to say. He wanted to ask Cas just what the hell he was playing at. Because if this was just sex then Dean had everything ass-backwards.

But he couldn’t say that, that would be too much confrontation and Cas would run, hide, defend himself and they might break whatever they had. So Dean went with the lesser thing that was bothering him.

“You- You didn’t stop me, going on the case.” Cas’ eyes narrowed. “But you sat here worrying. So, what, next time we’ll argue and-”

“No, we won’t,” Cas said and Dean looked at him. “Dean, I knew I’d worry about you when you said you were going on a hunt.” He sighed. “People aren’t supposed to tell you what to do, shout their opinion at you until you agree but it doesn’t stop them worrying. I don’t know anything about your job but you _must_ be a good hunter. It’s your livelihood but it doesn’t matter how good you are, it’s a dangerous job and I’m always going to worry about you.”

Dean paused, swirling that around in his brain – that didn’t sound like talk from two people who were just having no-strings sex.

“I’m not a good hunter,” Dean said.

“I don’t think that’s-”

“I’m an _awesome_ hunter!” Dean said.

Cas laughed and turned around in the bed as he lay back down, his back against Dean's chest. “I’m sure you are.”

Dean put his right arm around him again and kissed his neck. “Damn right, I am.”

>><< 

Dean sat down on the couch next to Cas and they began to eat their lunch which consisted of sandwiches packed with meat, cheese, sauce and, in Cas’ case, salad, onions and peppers.

Cas picked up the remote. “Do you mind if I-?”

“No, go ahead, take your pick,” Dean said, gesturing to the TV.

Cas flicked through the channels until he found the 24/7 news channel and put the remote down, deciding to catch up on the real world. They watched the rolling broadcast for a few minutes while they ate; there was a shark attack on the East Coast, Tiger Woods was in trouble again, Kansas' mixed football team had been kicked out of the running and scientists were investigating the effects of cannabis use on leukocytes. 

“What the hell are leukocytes?” Dean asked.

“Um,” Cas watched the TV for a few seconds, reading the words rolling from right to left at the bottom of the screen. “White blood cells.” He pointed.

Dean read it too and nodded before going back to his food. “How’s work?” he asked out of the blue.

Cas looked to him and then away. “Tiring,” he said, tensely.

Dean looked to him, sensing the change in tone. “Howcome?” He looked from his food back to the TV then to Cas again.

“We have a few accounts that I’m in charge of and most of them aren’t a problem but one handover is proving to be a pain and-” He hesitated and then took a drink, wishing he hadn’t said that, hoping to think of something else to add before Dean asked what he was going to say.

Dean’s brow dipped. “And what?”

“No, it’s nothing,” Cas said and went back to his sandwich.

Dean looked at him, he wasn't sure he could keep his mouth shut anymore. He knew something was going on but if anything he was pissed at Cas for his 'do what I say and not what I do' attitude and he knew that if he had any chance of approaching the subject of what the hell they were doing he couldn't be holding a grudge just because Cas was bottling stuff up. He had to prove to Cas - and to himself - that he could be mature, that he could talk about his feelings without barfing or emptying a bottle of Jack before yelling it at him.

Dean sighed and put his sandwich down; now or never. “Alright, listen.” Cas looked at him. “The past few days have been pretty heavy, I know that. With- _Her_. And what- what I did-”

“Dean-” Cas tilted his head.

Dean put out his right hand. “No, Cas, come on. I’ve been letting it go because we had enough to be getting on with but there’s a gap. I was hoping to just ride out the rest of this week on calm seas, enjoy this time with you, or at least for a couple of days but okay.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Cas said.

“You’ve been different since you walked in that door,” Dean said and pointed behind him to it.

“I don’t-”

“I thought maybe it was-” He shrugged. “Shit, I thought you were just horny, Cas. I thought maybe you needed release.” Cas looked down, his features becoming less confused and more set. “Now, I can’t decide if it’s something at work that’s got you clenched or what but you’ve spent the past few days pushing me away, giving me mixed signals. I mean you literally left because you were jealous instead of talking about it. Which, if you had, you'd know I didn't even mean to do it-"

"Dean, you don't have to explain. I had no right."

"No right?" Dean scoffed and Cas looked to him as he shook his head and looked to the side. "No right," he repeated, disbelievingly.

Cas' brow dipped, he really thought Dean looked hurt. "Okay, tell me," he said and Dean looked at him.

Dean paused and shook his head as if he'd decided something. "No," he said.

"Dean-"

"Hey, it doesn't even matter."

"It does-"

"He reminded me of you, okay?" Dean snapped and Cas looked at him. "That doesn't even matter. My point is, whatever is going on at work, if you don’t want to talk about it?” He swiped his hand in the air. “That’s fine. But don’t sit there preaching to me about opening up and dealing with my emotions then, ‘No, it’s nothing,’ me. S’not fair, Cas.” He shook his head and Cas looked to him. “I’m tryna be fair.”

Cas looked away ashamed then nodded. “You’re right.” He rubbed his hands together nervously. “Dean. You- I _have_ been pushing you away and I guess I should have said something, anything really, rather than keep it to myself.” He swallowed. “I uh- My boss assigned me- Zachiariah’s wife went into labour and he started his alphrenal leave so I was put in charge of the Purgatory handover.”

“The what?” Dean picked up his sandwich and took a bite.

“Purgatory is a company that makes soda and we won the account from _Avalon_ , these kind of accounts are so complicated – different accountant teams have their own language and shorthand and calculations, partly for ease or speed but also to prevent theft between companies – so we needed to have a handover, the other team literally translates their files for us and we make sure mistakes don’t carry over and become our fault. I used to work for Avalon so I know a lot of their codes and shorthands, although it has changed in the intervening years. That’s why I was tasked with heading up the handover, although why I wasn’t given it in the first place I’ll never understand.” Cas shrugged as if he wasn’t bothered but he was; he knew Zachiariah was the head of that department but it still irked at him.

“Well, that sounds awkward but I don’t get why that would-”

Cas exhaled. “Samandriel heads up the handover team.”

Dean froze and then looked to Cas who just stared at him.

“Samandriel?” he asked, his mouth half-full and Cas nodded. “As in-?” Cas nodded again. Dean put his sandwich down and slowly chewed what he had in his mouth as he sat back on the couch. “Shit,” he muttered. “So-” He swallowed. “You guys have to work together, every day?”

“I don’t see him all day but we’re both the heads of our teams so every work day there is a reason for one of us to cross the other’s path,” Cas said.”

“How does that even work?” Dean asked. “Do you talk about what happened?”

“No,” Cas said. “For the most part we pretend we’ve never met. We pass each other in the corridors and either politely nod or don’t make eye contact.”

“How’d you know?” Dean asked and Cas looked at him. “Well, if you’re not looking at him he might be looking at you.” Cas had to concede the point while Dean looked ahead considering how this knowledge – and the fact that Cas had hidden it – made him feel. He tried to remind himself that he had no right to feel anything.

Or had he?

Cas had asked him if he carried rubbers couldn’t he at least be a little bothered by Cas and – what, not an ex – that guy being together every day? Would he be allowed to be bothered by that, however irrational?

“He makes me uncomfortable,” Cas said, breaking the silence.

“How so?” Dean asked, wishing he could ask something else.

Actually, why the hell shouldn’t he?

“Are you attracted to him?”

“No,” Cas said. “I can’t explain it, it’s anxiety, as if there’s something behind me, approaching, gaining on me.”

Dean pushed his lips out, thinking about how quickly Cas had answered him, as if it were to be brushed aside, not even worth a second thought. And what’s more, he didn’t question Dean’s right to ask it.

“Like you’re being chased?” Dean asked.

Cas looked to him. “Yes,” he said.

Dean nodded. “I can understand that.”

“You can?” Cas leaned back. “Because I don’t.”

“Well, this guy is a link to back when you were scared the most.”

Cas seemed offended. “He doesn’t _scare_ me.”

“I’m not saying he does, I’m saying that the last time you saw that guy you acted in a way that scared you- You scared yourself, Cas. You scared yourself so much that you left that job and changed your entire life, everything about you. And then years later, there he is again and in the same setting. You see him in the corridors, the canteen, the elevator-”

Cas thought back and swallowed hard as he looked down.

“That has to be the worst. And then, to add to it,” he gestured between them with his right hand, “we’re doing this. You’re finally in a place where you can bring yourself to touch someone again, to trust yourself that way, and this dude shows up like a recurring nightmare, stalking you around the halls of your job.” He exhaled. “I’d be worried if you didn’t feel something about it. You have to feel something for him.”

“I do,” Cas said.

“You do? You have feelings for this guy?” Dean said, panicked.

“Anxiety, nausea, disgust-” Cas began to list.

Dean couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, those I’d expect.” He pressed his lips together, smile melting. “But, I mean, if you had other feelings,” Cas looked to him, his eyes narrowing, “any left over, unresolved romantic or sexual feelings-”

“I never had _any_ feelings for Samandriel,” Cas said and Dean looked to him. “I was an adolescent male alpha in the sudden presence of an omega in heat and I acted on instinct. Once I realized what I was doing I stopped. I never wanted him.” He saw Dean’s eyes scan over his face and thought it might have been his turn to be jealous. “And I don’t now. You’re the only person I’ve ever been attracted to.”

Dean swallowed. “I- Really?”

Cas’ eyes narrowed more, deciding to just ask this time. “Dean, does Samandriel’s effect on me bother you?”

“Well, I wish you could make your peace with it.”

“I meant…” He paused. “Are you jealous or insecure about us working together?”

“No,” Dean scoffed and Cas continued looking at him. “You said you’re not attracted to him so what else do I need?” He cleared his throat and chuckled awkwardly realizing now what that implied and hoped that Cas wouldn’t ask about it even though he knew that a growing part of him wished he would. And the irony of having just called Cas out about his feeling jealous and not addressing it was not lost on him. “How much longer will the handover take?”

“A couple of weeks,” Cas said.

“So, you’ll survive,” Dean said.

“And how are you dealing with-?”

“Fine,” Dean snapped and the subsequent silence rung in his ears louder than the news caster currently talking about Tiger Woods again.

“You don’t believe that,” Cas commented and Dean looked to him then away again.

“I’m doing the best I can right now,” Dean admitted with a tight jaw.

“Fair enough,” Cas said. “Have you spoken to Mrs Baker?”

Dean paused before looking at him. “Why would I?” He gestured between them. “You’ve been here, you know I haven’t.”

“You have left, I just thought you’d want to make sure she was okay after what happened, she’s probably worried about you too.”

“Huh,” Dean said. “I never thought about that.” He checked his watch. “I’ll go now.”

Cas nodded and finished eating his sandwich as Dean walked to the front door. He looked back to Cas and thought about everything they’d said then shook his head and went through the door, deciding to deal with one thing at a time. He closed it quietly behind him and looked left to right before he stepped to the door just across the hall and knocked.

He heard shuffling behind it and looked up.

“Mrs Baker? I’m from across the hall. Can I talk to you?”

He heard the slow, uncertain shaking of the chain being pulled back and then rattle as it was let go to hang at the side of the door. Then Dean heard the sound of the lock being disengaged and a car blaring its horn outside while a couple of people upstairs were arguing as they left their apartment.

The door opened a crack and Dean looked down at the apprehensive face of his neighbor. She softened when he recognized him and pulled the door open further.

“Sam?” she said, her voice was soft and drawn out.

“That’s my brother, he used to live here.” She looked a little confused. “Uh, yay high-” He lifted his hand above his head to indicate Sam’s height and she looked up to it. “Long hair, worried look permanently,” she smiled, “attached to his face?”

“Yes, of course.” She looked over Dean. “You’d think I’d remember you.”

Dean exhaled once in a chuckle, not sure what to say to that. “Um… I just wanted to check on you, make sure that you were okay.”

“Well, come on in,” she said and stepped back.

Dean hesitated and then said, “Okay,” before stepping inside the room. His eyes quickly scanned the room before him, moving right to left.

The room was open-plan, opening with the kitchen on the right instead, like his except that the walls were cream – it was just at that moment that Dean realized the walls of his apartment were purple and he had to pause for a second wondering how the hell he’d missed that – while the doors and windows as well as the beams were all dark wood. They matched the dark color of the three bookcases that sat along the far wall, only broken up to account for the doors to, what Dean assumed were, two bedrooms, since that would mirror his apartment. To his left there was a dining table with four high-backed chairs which he saw had a tablet sitting up, it’s screen dark, and a large china cup and saucer.

He then began to sweep back around, noticing that just beyond the table was a small TV in the corner, in front of one of the bookcases with an armchair, a foot stool and an end table. The rug in the middle of the floor looked of a Native American weave and sat in front of the main bookcase. In the corner, by the window (which faced the same side of the building as his own, although he knew the apartments on this side didn’t have balconies) was a small loveseat in front of a coffee table with a magazine or two on the surface.

Between that area and the kitchen the apartment dipped out of sight and Dean assumed that was where her bathroom and closet were. As he looked back to her his eyes scanned the kitchen and, as she closed the door, he turned and saw a poster on the wall by the door.

It was white in background, some of its writing was red and some black. He stepped towards it and she looked at him as he read it:

_A TRIBUTE to PATSY CLINE,_

_Walking After Midnight_

_Introducing Mildred Baker_

He pointed to the picture of the woman on it as he looked to her. “This you?”

She nodded, smiling. “Long time ago, before I got so good looking.”

He smiled and lowered his hand, he took her in as she smiled at him.

Her hair was short and blonde, her makeup was light with a soft silver eye cream just subtle enough not to offset her baby pink lipstick. She had a woolen open-front cardigan that draped around her hips in a faded tartan pattern of brown, red and cream, it covered a long-sleeved grey t-shirt and settled just against the tops of brown pants. Around her neck she had a necklace of metal in a rope design that held up a heavy pattern of shells and beads. Black gem stones sat on her ears and a couple of gold rings twinkled on her hands.

“Do you want a drink, hon?” she asked and smiled at him.

“Uh, coffee, black, please, Ma’am,” Dean said.

She walked to her kitchenette area and touched her hand to the pot and, feeling it still hot, took a cup from a stand on the counter and poured some. “Don’t worry,” she said as he held it out to him, “it’s fresh.”

He smiled as he took it. “Thank you,” he said.

She looked over his face. “How are you, Dean?” she asked.

He exhaled once, in a sort of chuckle. “I’m supposed to be making sure _you’re_ okay.”

“Son, you had a gun in that woman’s face,” she said. Dean looked down and shuffled on his feet. “And you don’t seem like you’re crazy.”

Dean looked back up to her. “I sure hope not,” he said and then took a drink. As he let it sit in his mouth he decided it was damn good coffee and just hot enough that he could comfortably swallow it but not too cold either. He hummed but saw her still smiling at him, her smile was sympathetic and Dean cleared his throat before he elaborated. “She- She made advances twice before and didn’t like the answer I was giving her.” He nodded as he looked at his coffee.

He was surprised when she took his free hand in hers and dragged him over to the loveseat by the window, she let go as they approached the coffee table and sat down on the right side of the seat. She looked up at him and smiled, patting the cushion beside her with her right hand. “Well, come on an’ sit down, I’m not gonna bite. Never really was my thing.” She looked up at him.

Dean chuckled nervously as he rounded the coffee table and sat on her right. “Okay,” he said as he did so.

“Those officers mentioned theft, did she steal from you?”

“She grabbed my gun while I was distracted and ran with it.”

“Distracted?” she asked, looking at him disbelievingly. “I was under the impression you were a bounty hunter, right?”

“Who told you that?” Dean asked.

“Your brother,” she said. “So proud of his big brother.”

“Really?” Dean asked.

“Yes!” she said, smiling. “Worried for you too.” Her brows dipped a little. “He didn’t say it with words but you could tell.”

Dean looked ahead, thinking about his genius brother going through law school, getting a girlfriend and getting serious so quickly, his life coming together so well. And yet he still thought about his big brother, the one who practically raised him.

“But you must be used to tense situations, how did she manage to distract you?” she asked.

“My uh- My-” Dean tried to cough to clear his throat. “I was worried about the safety of my- My uh-” He sighed, not sure why he couldn’t finish that sentence but knew it was because he didn’t know what the next word was.

She smiled and tapped his right knee with the back of her hand, making him look to her. “That nice young man with the dark hair?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean said and looked to his cup, taking a drink.

“He’s lovely,” she said and Dean nodded, smiling a little. “And so strong!” Dean looked to her a little confused. “He helped me take big sacks _full of books_ down the stairs.” Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I guess he’s an alpha?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, his voice croaking a little.

She smiled wider, knowingly, and pointed to him briefly before lowering her hand to touch his knee just as briefly. “He’s _your_ alpha and she was trying to muscle in?”

Dean felt heat in his face and knew his instinct was to stutter out an explanation, but how would he explain something he didn’t even understand and besides… Who could hear him?

“Uh…” He cleared his throat and pursed his lips together before looked ahead. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?” she asked and he glanced to her before he looked away, she looked at his face flushing. She patted his knee twice and he looked at her. “Okay, tell me.”

Dean’s brow dipped a little. “Ma’am?”

“Oh, Mildred, please!” she said and patted his knee again, lifting her hand to her lap. “Two-thousand and three was the year my son joined the army. Two-thousand and five two officers knocked my front door-” She gestured but neither looked. “-the way you just did. He was alive but his car had driven over an IED-” She stopped and looked up. “Now that’s an improvised explosive device.” Dean nodded and she looked back to him. “He lost his legs.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean said.

“Oh!” She touched his arm. “That’s okay!” She smiled. “He attends support groups and he’s made his peace with it and he’s living his life.” She leaned to Dean. “And lovin’ it!” He smiled. “And my granddaughter-” She sighed content and shook her head. “She is perfect.” She looked at Dean who smiled wider. “He was angry when he came back, drinking a lot. Your brother, he’s the one that gave us all the information about support groups and what happens to recruits invalided. He scared him straight.” She looked at Dean’s surprised face.

“He did?” Dean asked.

She nodded. “And that lovely young girl, she went with him to the first few group meetings.” She shook her head as her smile became sad. “Such a sweetheart.”

Dean pursed his lips together. “I,” she looked at him, “never knew her.”

“Well, they weren’t together for long before she died,” Mildred said and Dean nodded minutely. She focused on him. “But that’s not why, is it?”

Dean looked to her and then shook his head as he looked down. “Our childhood wasn’t exactly apple pie. There were times – weeks, months, even years – where we didn’t see each other.”

“That’s a shame,” she said, sensing that there was more to it than Dean would say. “She was great, she drove him to and from the support groups, even when she stopped going inside. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, but after a while he needed to do it on his own, so he could be really truthful and she understood.”

Dean thought about her, the couple of words they’d shared the night he turned up and got Sam to come with him to find their father. “I wish I had known her,” he said quietly.

“Does your brother know about your young man?” she asked and Dean looked to her, his mouth falling open. He paused and looked down as he pursed his lips back together and shook his head. “But surely you’re not going to let your childhood affect you now, especially after missing out on knowing that young woman?”

“It’s complicated,” Dean said.

“How so?” she asked.

Dean nervously chuckled. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, Ma’am, but I’m not entirely comfortable-”

She lifted her hand, her smile dropping. “Okay, I’m sorry,” she said and Dean closed his mouth, feeling guilty. “Forgive an old woman her nosiness.” Dean smiled. “It gets boring after a while. It’s not that I see you as entertainment but other than my son and my granddaughter I don’t see people a lot and people are so interesting.” She smiled and Dean chuckled. “But that doesn’t excuse my rudeness. I apologize.” She squeezed his knee and then looked ahead.

Dean looked at her then around at her apartment, the walls were full of pictures of memories but nothing that looks recent except a group picture with a young man and a baby.

He looked down. “I’ve been telling myself,” she looked to him, “that I haven’t told Sam about him because all I have in life is work and my brother and a lot of the time they coexist. I tell myself that I don’t want him to know about Cas because then Cas wouldn’t just be mine. And it is part of it but-” He sighed.

“There’s another reason?” she asked so gently that Dean wondered if she thought him vulnerable like omegas were always thought to be.

He looked away and his brow dipped as he said, “I’m scared.” He looked back to her and she nodded a little and he looked away, keeping his head angled towards her as his eyes scanned anywhere but her face without actually seeing anything. “From the minute I met him, Cas has always been a goddamn miracle in my life.” She smiled a little wider. “He was the _one_ person, apart from my brother, who didn’t try to hurt me, claim me, attack me. I have regrets in life but walking away from him six-” He nodded to himself, realizing they’d been doing this for a long time now. “Seven years ago was one of the top. Everything- He has always been different. I was born into hunting, I was forced into it by my dad. I love him but my brother was my one weakness and my dad always knew it, used it. He knew as long as Sam was with him I would always come back. Nothing was up to me. He is. Cas, he’s my choice. He’s-” He sighed and looked to her. “He’s mine.”

She nodded. “I remember what else happened that year. How are your eyes?”

It took a second for Dean to realize what she was referring to. “Oh,” he said and chuckled. “Yeah, they’re good.” He remembered trying to get the smoke to stop burning them, blinking as a fireman poured water over his face and then handing him a towel.

“I’ll never forget the sight – you carrying your brother into the street and laying him on the grass, stumbling back to let the paramedics work on him. I thought you were going to faint right there.”

“I was holding my breath, or trying to.” He chuckled and she smiled. “Couldn’t stop coughing.”

“When he came round you collapsed,” she pointed out.

“Well, I wasn’t gonna pass out before I knew he was okay,” he said and looked to her when she laughed. “Looking after Sammy has always been my job.” He took a drink of his coffee and found it getting cold.

She considered him. “Doesn’t your man feel like a dirty secret?”

Dean nodded as he swallowed. “He did, until I explained it to him, how I felt.”

“He understands?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said.

She tapped his knee again. “That’s a special man you’ve got there,” she said.

Dean smiled. “Yeah, I guess he is.”

“And you don’t want to share your happiness with your family and friends?” she asked, tilting her head a little.

Dean stammered, “It’s not that.”

“No?” she asked, disbelievingly.

“No, I just- Like I said, I’m scared,” he said, annoyed that he had to say it again.

“Dean,” she turned more towards him and put her hand on his knee again, “far be it from me to turn therapist but-” She took a breath and shuffled, unsure if she should continue.

“No, go on,” Dean said. “I don’t understand it, so if you do, hit me.”

She chuckled quickly. “Oh, darlin’, alright.” She smiled at him for a second. “You’re worried that everything in your life is gonna ruin this little pocket of happiness you and your man have carved out for yourselves but then you say that all there is in your life is your work and your brother. And, Cas, is it?” Dean nodded. “So, it just makes me wonder, do you see your brother as the poison or your work?”

Dean opened his mouth to answer and then hesitated.

She was right; how could it ruin what he and Cas had unless it was corrosive?

“I-” He shook his head. “I just want Cas to stay my choice.” He looked to her.

“And how exactly would that change if your brother knew about him?”

Dean searched her face, trying to think of an answer but one didn’t come and he nervously looked around the room and to his cup.

She smiled sympathetically and patted his knee. “Hon, do you want to know the secret to living a long and happy life?” He looked to her but didn’t answer so she lifted her hand and tapped his chest four times, making him look down. “Follow your heart.” She lowered her hand and they looked at each other. “You do that and everything else will fall into place. I did that, followed my heart. I travelled the world, made people smile, forget about their problems. I never questioned anything, I asked my heart and always knew what to do. You do that and you’ll always know what to do too.”

“Do?” Dean asked, awkwardly. “I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

Mildred sensed that he had reached the end of his comfort-zone. “I appreciate it, I just want to make sure you boys are okay.” She shrugged. “I guess it’s the mom in me.”

Dean thought back. “My mom died when I was a kid, I don’t really know what it’s like to be a grown man and have a mom.”

“What about your daddy?”

Dean scoffed. “My dad died too, a few years ago, but in all honesty he wasn’t really my dad, he was my boss.”

“Was he the same with your brother or was he the favorite?”

“He was the same,” Dean said. “Maybe harsher because Sam questioned him. He had his own mind, he wanted to be a lawyer. He got a full ride too. Most dads would be proud, but ours told him not to come back. With me, I was never gonna be anything else. He left Sam alone, I think Dad really believed that Sammy would make it but when I ran away to be a fireman he turned up in the middle of the night and told me to stop messing around.”

“What did you do?” she asked.

“I did what he told me to,” Dean said, as if there was no other answer.

“Son, there is something in respecting your dad but letting him deciding your life is different.”

Dean smiled a little. “That’s what Cas said. But it doesn’t matter now, I did what he told me, and me and my brother are still doing what he wanted, it’s our life and we’re damn good at it.” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” she said. “Just remember that that young man knows all of this about you – I assume – understands it, and…” She leans to him just a little. “ _Gets_ it.” She raised her eyebrows. “Right?”

Dean smiled and nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.” He thought about it and smiled wider. “Yes, he does.” He suddenly turned towards little. “He- He never makes me feel like I’m crazy. He might say, ‘Dean, that’s not normal’ but it’s never judging or making me feel like I have to hide it – I mean, if I do feel that way it’s me not him. I have a go at him, shout- And he just goes with it.”

Her face tensed. “Why are you shouting at that nice young man?” she asked, her face stern.

“I’m not shouting _at_ him. I’m just- I was brought up on the belief that yelling was how you communicated. Just like scotch was the way to deal with anything that couldn’t be fixed by hunting someone down.”

She exhaled sadly and gripped his leg while Dean looked to her questioningly.

“Honey…” She shook her head. “Never let him go.”

Dean laughed and she smiled.

 

Some minutes later Dean closed her front door and opened his own to the sound of Mrs Baker locking her door. He walked into his apartment to see Cas at the sink dipping a cloth into the soapy water and squeezing it.

He looked over his shoulder as Dean closed the door behind him. “How is she?” he asked.

Dean walked to him and wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed his cheek. “She’s fine,” he said. “More worried about us.”

Cas had tensed, not sure what was happening. “What’s this?” he said with a smile.

Dean paused and realized he was acting ridiculous so he stepped back. “Nothing, sorry.” He walked away to the bathroom.

“Dean, I didn’t mean-”

“Gotta pee,” Dean mumbled as Cas’ mouth hung open, the rest of his sentence lost in his throat.

When the door closed behind Dean Cas let his head hang. “I didn’t mean stop,” he muttered to himself and wiped the counter.

Dean stood over the toilet bowl urinating. He shook his head and scoffed to himself. “Your young man,” he repeated to himself bitterly.

He thought about the times Sam had managed and would continue to manage to talk him in and out of things, how his father had only had to mention Sam and Dean would bend. He didn’t even _want_ to think of how easily Benny had whispered in his ear.

He swallowed and wished he wasn’t so easily convinced, letting his sweet neighbor get under his skin, making him even think about telling Sam. Hell, he’d almost been convinced there was something to tell him.

What would he have said? That he was banging someone every few months?

Dean flushed and turned to the sink, washing his hands, thinking about how that didn’t even begin to cover it. He cupped some water and splashed his face then looked up to the mirror as droplets ran down his face to the sink.

“What would I even say?” he asked himself quietly.

>><< 

“Season three,” Dean announced as he got up to change the _Dr Sexy_ DVD.

“Yeah,” Cas said, distractedly, feeling melancholic.

Dean bent over to the player but turned to look at Cas quickly and then stopped, seeing his far away look. “You okay?” he asked.

Cas’ eyes went to his and he nodded, not coming out of his reverie, humming a response before he looked away again.

Dean nodded once then turned back to the player, changing the disc and then pressing play before straightening up and turning on his heels, walking back to the couch and sitting down heavily enough to make Cas bounce a little.

He never took his eyes from Cas’ face but he couldn’t read him. “You’ve got a look in your eye,” Dean said and Cas slowly looked to him. “Don’t think I’ve seen it before.”

Cas leaned back on the couch and looked forward. “No?”

“Nope,” Dean confirmed.

“That’s to be expected, I guess,” Cas said. “Given that we only see each other for four weeks out of the year.”

Dean looked forward and felt like there was something he was supposed to say but he didn’t know what.

Cas didn’t know what he’d expected but he knew it wasn’t silence.

They watched another two episodes before Cas put his left arm on the couch behind Dean’s head. His mouth twitched at the side when Dean leaned into him. He looked to Dean and then leaned in to kiss his cheek, Dean smiled but didn’t react further. Cas watched him and lifted his arm at the elbow to run the tips of his fingers over Dean’s hair and watched the moments.

“Did something happen next door?” Cas asked.

Dean’s smile fell a little and then he smiled again as he scoffed dismissively (and not very convincingly). “What?” he said as he crossed his arms.

“You seem rattled,” Cas said, letting his wrist fall a little to run his fingers through the tops of Dean’s hair at the back.

Dean sighed, he had been trying to figure everything out. He’d never really been talked into something he hadn’t wanted deep down so just why was he was so easily swayed when it came to Cas? As if the answer wasn’t staring him in the face. Or playing with his hair.

But how would he actually say it out loud without sounding like a complete idiot? Especially when he didn't know what he wanted to say.

“I guess talking about-” He cleared his throat and his eyes moved to the table.

Cas thought he understood: Amara.

“Dean,” he interrupted and Dean looked to him, “you don’t have to explain.” He leaned back and Dean’s arms loosened.

“I don’t?” he asked, turning a little to see him better.

Cas knew that if Dean felt cornered he’d push Cas away and he didn’t want that so he just shook his head and lowered his hand from Dean’s hair back to the couch.

Dean looked back to the TV and felt confused and disheartened. He wasn’t sure how to take Cas’ reaction but the fact was he’d almost been able to say something, just get it out, start the conversation he felt that they were avoiding. Well, he hoped it was both of them and not just him that wanted to talk about what he felt.

And what did he feel exactly?

Did he even know?

He shifted in his seat, feeling it hard to breathe. Suddenly he was glad Cas had dropped the subject. He felt Cas move his arm around his shoulders but it didn’t restrict him it just lay there, like reassurance. He wondered if Cas had thought he’d needed reassurance or if Cas only had to touch him and he felt it anyway. Because even when he squirmed a little – his pants feeling twisted – Cas lifted the weight from his arm so that it wasn’t heavy on him but he didn’t take it away either.

Dean thought that anyone else would move away, as if punishing him – just like his dad would bin his dinner if he didn’t eat it fast enough – but Cas just waited until he was comfortable and then let his arm rest again. Dean smiled, thinking about what Cas said: until Dean said he wanted Cas to go he was staying. Maybe that went for something as simple as touching him. He leaned into Cas and hummed, hearing Cas chuckle a little in response and settle next to him, pulling him a little closer.

>><< 

In bed that night Dean lay awake staring at the ceiling, his right arm up and his hand under his head. Everything from when they met the first time to the second, from Amara to what Mildred had said.

Cas lay on Dean’s left, facing away from him and fast asleep.

Dean exhaled through his nose and remembered one the times he’d gotten caught by the cops as a kid while letting Benny talk him into things. He closed his eyes and exhaled, trying not to remember flirting with the middle-aged guy to distract him, trying not to remember the way he’d stroked Dean’s face while Benny lifted his wallet. But what really made his throat constrict was the way that Benny had teased him about it later, mimicking the stroke, the intense stare, then had smirked as Dean had reacted to him.

Dean wanted to push the memory away, turn to Cas and pull him close, filling his mind with his reality instead of memories he’d rather not recall. He wanted to. But he didn’t. Because all he could hear were two different women’s voices.

‘That’s a special man you’ve got there,’ Mildred had said.

‘Why is it you can’t say it then?’ Amara had mocked Cas. ‘Could it be that he’s not yours at all?’

Dean swallowed, turned away from Cas and tried to get some sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pair have all but given up on this heat turning up and Cas leaves. However, it's only for supplies. And it leads to some interesting events. Dean is coming to realize that they can deny it all they like but what they have now is not what they started out with. But the question is: would that be such a bad thing?

Dean woke up still on his right side and he wiped his face, trying to adjust to the morning. He paused when he became aware that Cas’ arm was around his middle and his head was tucked in behind him.

Dean smiled, exhaling as if relieved, and pulled Cas’ arm closer, shuffling backwards to press his back against Cas chest. He hummed then opened his eyes when Cas moved his left arm from under his but he merely pulled the cover up to their shoulders and then curled it back around Dean’s middle and hummed too, in almost the exact way that Dean had. Dean closed his eyes and prepared to fall back asleep.

Then it occurred to him and he opened his eyes. When he’d felt Cas close to him he’d felt privileged. That was it. It didn’t matter about anything else, all Dean knew was that he felt privileged to be with Cas – whether it was for a day or a week – and that was all he knew for certain. This shouldn't have been such a shocking revelation to him but somehow it clicked into place in his mind: it was the right word, or one of them. He hadn't even known he was searching for one. He wondered if Sam had felt privileged with Jess or if his father had felt that way with his mother. He wondered if that's what Charlie felt when she was with her girlfriend and why they ever left them to run off and hunt down bad guys just to hurry back to these angels. 

“Are you okay?” Cas croaked against the back of Dean’s neck.

“Yeah, baby,” Dean replied, still mid-thought.

“That’s what I call you,” Cas pointed out.

“Sorry,” Dean said with a smile. “Still half-asleep.”

“S’okay, I am too,” Cas muttered. “And you can call me whatever makes you comfortable.” He squeezed Dean once and started to fall back asleep leaving Dean to lie there, anxiety and self-loathing taking the wheel, leading him to move on to wondering where his heat was and when Cas would give up on it and leave.

>><< 

When Dean woke again it was to the sound of movement in his bedroom and he slowly sat up, looking around the room with eyes that wouldn’t quite open. He fixed on a figure standing in a towel at his dresser in the corner of the room, slowly opening a drawer while trying not to make a noise.

“Rooting in my underpants?” Dean asked and sat up as Cas turned to look at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you but I ran out of my own underpants.”

Dean pulled the sheet aside and stood, stumbling slightly while the light in the room hit his eyes. “You’ve only been here a couple of days, how’d you run out?”

Cas looked embarrassed. “I didn’t think I’d need more than a couple.”

Dean laughed and stepped towards him. “What do you need ‘em for?”

“We’re running out of food and other supplies, I thought I could go out?” Cas tilted his head while his eyes moved smoothly over Dean's features, still puffy from sleep; hovering on his eyes, the faint beginnings of lines that curved from the sides of his nose to the sides of his mouth, the stubble that came from his sideburns to his strong chin, his lips. They then lifted back to his eyes and watched them crinkle gently while he spoke.

Dean pressed his lips together and looked to Cas. “Maybe I could come with you?” He shrugged. “Get some fresh air.”

Cas’ brow tensed. “What if you go into heat?”

“You’d be there, right?” Dean asked and looked over his face, pleasantly bewildered that he still felt privileged to have him standing in front of him.

He didn’t even wait for an answer he just leaned forward and kissed Cas who turned more towards Dean, expecting Dean to push him against the wardrobe and take advantage of his undressed state. However, Dean kept his hand on Cas’ face and his kiss firm, with definite passion but without further intent. When he pulled back Cas looked over him, almost frozen except for his searching eyes. Dean looked to his thumb and gently stroked over Cas’ cheek.

Cas didn’t ask what had brought this sudden display of affection on, because he didn’t want it to stop. Instead, he said, “Are you okay, baby? Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, “I’m good.” He smiled. “Let me just shower, catch you up, and then we’ll go?”

“Yes, of course,” Cas said. “May I borrow some underpants?”

“Anything you want,” Dean said. “The uh-” He cleared his throat, looking to the left as he pointed with the hand he removed from Cas’ face. “The ones on the right are for periods. Might not be comfortable for ya.” He smiled, embarrassed, and walked out of the room.

Cas smiled to himself as he watched him and then looked through Dean’s drawer trying to figure out what had just happened. It wasn’t long before he decided it didn’t need a reason, he could just enjoy it.

>><< 

Dean had to admit to himself that it felt just a little weird to be locking his apartment door while Cas stood beside him waiting to go outside together. He wasn’t really sure why he’d suggested that he tag along but he thought that he’d take advantage of not being in heat while Cas was with him.

“So, where do you wanna go?” Dean asked as he turned, pocketing his keys, and led the way to the stairwell to the right, silently hoping his brother wasn’t about to come strolling up towards them.

“Well, we need groceries,” Cas said, looking around nervously. “Other than that-” He shrugged distractedly.

“What about  _Costco_?” Dean asked, feeling like a soccer mom as they began to descend, Cas a few steps behind him.

“You have a membership?” Cas asked, surprised.

“Yup,” Dean said. “Cheapest way to keep the bunker stocked.”

Cas considered this and then nodded to himself, looking out of the window to the street.

They went all the way to the ground floor via the stairwell and Cas watched as Dean angled his head to see around the stair turns before he walked around them, as if worried someone was going to come upon them suddenly.

They got into the parking lot, both of them looking around; Dean for Sam and Cas for Amara. They walked to Dean’s car and stopped, Dean on the driver’s side.

“So,  _Costco_?” he asked as he unlocked the doors.

“Yes,” Cas said and they opened the doors, getting in and closing the doors, Dean a second ahead of Cas.

Cas was dragging his safety belt across his chest when he looked at Dean and saw him rush to put his own on and turn the engine over. He smiled when it rumbled, fixed his jacket and sighed, turning to Cas and smiling.

Cas’ expression tensed into bewilderment as Dean raised his eyebrows as if asking Cas something before he put the car into drive then reverse, reversed out of the space and stopped.

Cas watched him as he ran his hands over the steering wheel and listened to the engine. “God, I love this car,” he said, shaking his head, before putting in drive, turning the wheel and driving forward to make their way to the exit of the parking lot. He reached forward and pressed a button and Cas looked too late before music started up, mid-song.

“Is that a cassette player?” he asked.

“The original,” Dean said proudly. They were on the road barely ten minutes before Dean’s stomach growled. “I forgot breakfast,” he explained.

“Why don’t we eat first?” Cas suggested.

“You haven’t eaten?” he asked, glancing to him.

“No, I would have woken you up,” Cas said.

“How about pancakes then?” Dean asked, looking to him again as he nodded.

>><< 

They stopped at a modest diner and inside found a booth where they sat across from each other. Their backsides had barely touched the seats when a waitress appeared.

“Get you handsome fellas anything?” she asked, looking between them.

Dean and Cas looked up at her then to each other before Dean ordered black coffee and blueberry pancakes with syrup without looking at the menu.

The waitress scribbled his order in shorthand then looked at Cas. “And what do you fancy, hon?”

Dean looked up at her and then shook the feeling of jealousy that had bubbled up.

“The same,” Cas said but when she nodded and began scribbling he put his hand out. “Actually,” she stopped and looked at him, “make it raspberry instead, please.” He dropped his hand back to the table.

“You got it, hon,” she said and walked off.

Dean watched her walk to the counter and put the order on a spike on a counter leading to the kitchen then turn to the coffee machine.

They looked to each other and smiled then looked away awkwardly. Dean suddenly realized that while he knew they’d never done this before they’d  _really_  never done this before. They’d had dinner but there had always been the TV or things to discuss, things that could be spoken about inside the comfort of Dean’s apartment or Cas’ house but not in a diner.

There was a tense silence, neither sure what to say, until the coffee arrived.

They nodded to the waitress and then, when she left, looked back to each other and laughed awkwardly.

“So uh…” Dean said, not sure why he’d spoken other than to break the silence but now Cas was looking at him expectantly and there was only one question Dean could think of. “When do-? When do you go back to work?”

Cas paused, mid-sip, and then lowered the cup, looking down. “Work, right,” he said, feeling like they’d somehow been in a bubble and now that they were outside in the real world the bubble had burst and reality had come knocking.

“It doesn’t seem like my heat is gonna come,” Dean said, feeling like he had to let Cas know he could leave, that he was under no obligation to stay.

“No, it doesn’t,” Cas agreed. “I can go if-”

“No,” Dean said, shaking his head and then lifted his cup to take a drink. “I don’t want you to go,” he said before he took a drink, feeling anxiety stir up in him. “I just wanna know how much longer I have you for.”

It was then that Cas felt Dean’s knee brush his and noticed that Dean wasn’t breaking eye contact. He got this strange feeling that Dean was attempting to flirt with him and Dean felt like his heart was racing, with absolutely no idea what he was doing.

“If I could stay with you longer, I would,” Cas said, feeling like he was skirting something as dangerous as it was magnetic.

Dean stared at him, his cup lowered to in the air just below his chin, for just a couple of seconds before he said, “Really?”

Cas’ head tilted a little. “Do you not believe that?”

Dean took a drink then looked down as he lowered his cup to the table surface again. “Doesn’t matter what I believe.”

“It does to me,” Cas replied.

Dean cleared his throat and looked away, around the diner. “You have to go home sometime, right?”

“Yes, I guess that is correct,” Cas nodded.

“Well, then,” Dean said and shrugged as if that put an end to that conversation.

Cas was about to mention that he could still stay with Dean and go to work when the waitress brought their pancakes over.

“Blueberry,” she said as she put them down in front of Dean, “and raspberry.” She put the others down in front of Cas. “Both with syrup.” She smiled as she put a jug big enough for two people down. “Anything else?” She looked to Dean who looked up.

“Uh, no thanks,” he said.

She looked to Cas. “You?”

“Water, please,” he said and she nodded, turning away from them and walking away.

She was gone for barely five seconds before she came back and put another jug on the table with two empty glasses. “Enjoy,” she said and left before Cas even had a chance to thank her.

Dean lifted the jug to pour some syrup on his pancakes as Cas poured water into the two glasses. Dean’s eyes lifted to look at Cas when he felt his knee brush his but he was watching what he was doing.

>><< 

They shared sparse small talk until they were walking into  _Costco_. They walked around with a cart putting things in it, some which they conferred over and some they didn’t.

Dean wandered away from Cas when they got to the ‘Home’ section and Cas stopped with the cart at bed sheets while Dean found himself in the pharmacy section. He had been drawn to the painkillers that claimed to target period pains and heat products but as he walked slowly down the aisle he stopped when he found himself in the sexual health section. He looked around awkwardly and couldn’t see anyone near him, except a heavily pregnant man in the next aisle looking at creams for chaffed penises which often happened when the bump began to descend and sitting down became a game of constant shuffling.

Dean leaned down to look at the different condoms; they were split into the three presentations and those were further split into different sizes, textures and other categories. For example, the alpha condoms sizing seemed misleading. Dean picked up a ‘small’ box and found it was for five inches and down. His brow dipped and he looked down before looking around. He picked up the ‘medium’ and found it was five to seven and then he just put them back and moved on to save his confidence. He saw that both alpha and omega condoms had an ‘in heat’ option but on comparing them he found that the alpha ones were specially made, not just to prevent pregnancy and spread of infection and disease, but to hold the penis to prevent tearing in either person – Dean winced – as well as provide protection to stop a knot getting chaffed.

Dean’s lips came together and the sides turned down as he considered it was a good idea someone was thinking of these things. Then he realized he hadn’t, what if Cas was in pain, and not just when he was penetrating Cas. He still wasn’t happy about that, about how little they waited, and he knew it was his fault because Cas had slowed down the last time he’d brought it up and so if he’d just insisted they be more careful then they would. He put the condoms back and looked around again before he looked to the lubrication. It was like some adult candy store; there were even more categories and colors and different sizes. He exhaled as he straightened up and scratched the back of his head, realizing he was out of his depth.

“Do you need help?” Dean’s hand dropped and he looked to his left to an older black woman about half a foot shorter than him.

“Sorry?” he said and she gestured to the shelf Dean had been looking at. He chuckled nervously. “I- No, I wasn’t-”

“Honey,” she said, “you’re a grown man, don’t be embarrassed. It’s better to be safe than sorry. Now…” she stepped towards him, picking up various bottles from the shelf. “Let’s see if we can find something for you.”

 

When Dean finally left the pharmacy area the woman behind the counter was watching him, her smile slowly appeared and she shook her head amused. He walked around, very aware of the paper bag with the pharmacy sign, it was rolled closed and he held it tight in his left hand. He walked slowly between the aisles, back to the home section where he’d last seen Cas.

He looked down the lighting aisle and stopped, spotting the familiar dark hair tilted to the left and staring at a child’s nightlight in the shape of a bumble bee. He smiled to himself and watched him for a few seconds before he was disturbed by a woman walking while holding her child.

“Excuse me,” she said and Dean turned, realizing he was in the way.

“Sorry,” he said and moved, tucking his left hand behind him, his grip tightening around the bag. He shook his head and looked back to Cas, wondering why he was standing in the middle of a supermarket staring at a man from far away when he could easily just walk over to him and look at him. But he stood there for another few seconds anyway, just watching as he in turn watched the light, wondering what was going through his mind. He remembered Cas mentioning a poster in his office and briefly entertained the thought that he was comparing what he knew to what he was looking at.

He shook his head as Cas pulled the cord coming from it and watched it clicking off then on again. He then exhaled and walked down the aisle towards him as he lowered his head to read the information sheet. He stopped near him and tried to nonchalantly put his bag in the cart.

When Cas sensed his presence and turned Dean panicked, saying, “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

Cas noticed the bag, the pharmacy logo making his heart jump into his throat but he glanced around at the people around them and then back to Dean and eventually the light. “I like bees,” he said.

Dean chuckled. “We good to go?”

“I am,” he said. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” Dean said and, to Cas’ surprise, lifted his hand and cupped the back of his head, smiling at him. Looking over Cas’ face; he wanted to ask him what he’d been thinking before he’d walked back over to him, he wanted to tell him what was in the bag, he wanted to just look at him.

And then he realized what he was doing, Cas’ slightly narrowed eyes on his but his face in a soft smile.

Dean inhaled as he lowered his hand and looked around as he turned away from Cas. “Let’s shag ass, then,” he said and walked away, trying to tell himself to pull it together.

Cas tilted his head, his eyes narrowing more and his smile falling. He turned the cart around and pushed it after him.

>><< 

Getting back to the apartment was a bit like a comedown for Dean – or at least he assumed so from what Sam had described to him in horrid detail – as if being in his car and joining the outside world had felt like breathing.

For Cas, it was a relief to get Dean back to safety without a sudden onset of his heat but it was also upsetting. He’d almost been fooled by the domestic feel of shopping together.

Dean looked up as Cas took a bag from him to allow Dean to unlock the door. “Thanks, you got it?”

“Yes,” Cas said but his strained arm hidden under his jacket said otherwise.

Dean looked to him as he turned the key and observed the discomfort on his face. He also saw the way he was trying to hide it, looking to the side and the ceiling. So, just to see how far he’d go, Dean decided to turn the key back on itself, locking it once more, and then unlocking again. “Too heavy?” Dean asked and when Cas shook his head Dean continued to turn the key back and forth. “You sure?” he asked and Cas shook his head again, looking down away from Dean while his arms began to burn. “You gonna put them down?” Cas pursed his lips together but didn’t answer. “Not gonna wave the white flag?” He removed the key.

Cas grunted. “Just- Open the damn door, Dean,” he said and exhaled hard.

Dean just gave the door a little shove, making it swing open slowly. Cas marched passed him, using his right shoulder to push the door open more as he stepped inside. He put the bags down heavily on the dining table with a relieved exhale.

“Dumbass,” Dean muttered with a smile and followed him, locking the door before dumping his keys on the top shelf beside the mail and started taking his jacket off, walking to the pegs as he put his arms back and tried to slide it off. “Having no cape grating on ya?”

Cas sighed. “I have no idea what you are talking about,” he said and started to pull his own jacket coat off.

“Not as strong as you usually are, huh?” Dean said, hanging his up, and put his hand out.

Cas passed him his coat with a look lacking mirth. “That would be because you’re not in heat, Dean.” He turned back to the bags on the counter as Dean smoothed his hands over the arms of the jacket.

“Superman without his powers, like I said,” Dean agreed and walked to the fridge, opening it and taking items that Cas handed him to be put inside.

“That implies that, in heat, you think of me as Superman,” Cas pointed out.

“More like Ant-man before he shrinks down,” Dean countered as he bent over to move some things around the shelves inside the refrigerator.

Cas huffed and walked away to the bedroom. Dean turned his head to look at the doorway then closed the door and followed him into the bedroom with a good-natured chuckle. “C’mon, Cas, I was kiddin’.” He paused, his smile disappearing when he saw that Cas was stripping the bed of its linen, bundling the sheets up in a ball as Dean began to speak. “What are you-?” He stopped only when he was hit in the face when Cas threw the ball at him.

“I am putting this on your mattress,” Cas said and began pulling a sheet out of a soft plastic casing.

“What is that?” Dean asked, dumping the bundle on the floor and taking a step towards him.

“It is a sheet made from material that traps moisture and prevents it from seeping into your mattress,” Cas explained and Dean put out his hands to take the sides and help him fit it around the corners of the mattress.

“Is this just for omegas?”

“No, however I know omegas use it for heats. I got one when I replaced my mattress.”

“You replaced your mattress?” Dean asked as they leaned down to fix it.

“Yes,” Cas replied curtly, knowing Dean would react.

Dean considered it and then his face calmed as he understood. “I ruined your mattress, didn’t I?” Cas didn’t answer. “Was it the night you went to the guest room?”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Cas said.

Dean sighed again and straightened up before he dipped to grab the ball of sheets from the floor.

“Can you bring another sheet?” Cas called as he stepped through the bedroom door.

Dean stopped and turned. “Why?”

“It tells you to put another on over this,” Cas explained and looked to the piece of cardboard that had been in the package with the sheet.

Dean shrugged and went to the bathroom door, throwing his sheets into the basket then walked to the linen closet and pulled a sheet and pillowcases out without care, displacing some of the other pieces of fabric in the process. He walked back to the bedroom and dumped the sheet on top of his bed.

“They do roll up mattresses now, right?” he asked and sighed, turning away, not expecting or needing an answer.

“Dean, come on-” Cas said, leaning to the bed and picking up a pillow and then throwing it with both hands at Dean’s back. “I’m not doing this on my own.”

Dean turned and looked at Cas before looking down at the offending pillow on the floor as Cas began moving the pillow cases to the night stand and opening the sheet. “What the hell is your problem?” he asked as he dipped to snatch up the pillow.

“You didn’t ruin my mattress, Dean, it just needed replaced-”

“Because I ruined it,” Dean snapped as he tugged the pillow case off.

Cas grunted in frustration. “I can’t believe we’re arguing over a mattress!” he said and threw the other pillow at Dean who, with his hands full, could do nothing more than tense up and turn to his left a little so that the pillow hit his right upper arm.

“Hey!” Dean protested.

“You do realize that stuff happens in life, Dean, stuff that doesn’t mean you screwed up, it just means life happened. I would rather replace my mattress every day then not have you in my life.”

“So, remind me why you lost your job at the garage again,” Dean said, pointing to him, not even realizing what Cas had said.

“I lost my job because I made a decision. I chose to make sure that you were okay over completing my shift.”

“How is that not my fault?” Dean asked.

“Because I chose, Dean. And life is choices,” Cas said. “I decided that your health meant more to me than my job. I lost my job and I got another. My mattress needed replaced so I bought another.” He shook his head in confusion. “I don’t-”

“I hit you!” Dean yelled, his face flushing red.

They stared at each other.

“Is that life?” Dean asked.

“No,” Cas said softly. “But it happened. And you shoved me, you didn’t hit me.”

“She didn’t say yes but she didn’t say no,” Dean countered bitterly.

Cas exhaled. “Dean, we both know you were in the wrong. Do I wish you hadn’t done it? Of course. But with everything that happens in life, whether we realize we’re doing it or not, we ask ourselves if we can deal with it, get over it and live with it. I have asked myself that, and I can get over it and live with it, Dean. I hope you can too.”

Dean looked down.

“When Sam was a child and he ripped his pants your father decided Sam had done something wrong but all he did was grow and play like a child, Dean. He was just living life.” Dean looked to the side. “I wish I could help you understand this.”

Dean looked to him. “Me too,” he said softly, dropped the used pillowcase to the floor and put out his hand.

Cas picked up a pillow case and held it out to him.

Dean started to put the case on the pillow while he spoke and Cas looked at him. “When me and Sam went to live with Bobby we got up at the crack of dawn, made our beds and went downstairs. I poured Sam  _Lucky Charms_  because that’s what he always had, sometimes he wouldn’t eat anything else, man. I went to the fridge for milk and I just-” He exhaled. “There was food!”

Cas looked confused. “I don’t-”

“Well, I wasn’t used to that,” Dean said. “Sam and me, we weren’t used to it. He ate as many bowls as he could while I made sandwich after sandwich.”

“Why?” Cas asked.

Dean shrugged with a small laugh. “I don’t know, it was like survival mode or autopilot or something. We hid the food in our rooms, Sam had a sore stomach for days.” He threw the pillow to the bed and picked up the second one from the floor while Cas held out the other slip. “When we went up before lunch there was a note on my bed.” Dean started putting the second pillow into the pillow slip.

“A note from who?” Cas asked.

“Bobby, saying that we could take any food we needed, we didn’t have to steal it.” Dean chuckled. “He added that they tasted nasty after a few days under our pillows.”

Cas smiled a little.

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m used to things a certain way, Cas, and I know they’re not always the right ways.”

“I understand,” Cas said. “But Dean, mattresses can be replaced.”

Dean exhaled hard. “Okay,” he said and Cas nodded, as if asking a question. “Okay, yeah.” He nodded to himself and Cas seemed to relax. “Just one thing.” He threw the pillow at Cas’ face, as it fell Cas caught it and he turned his eyes on Dean. The expression was one between confusion and anger. Dean pointed at him. “You deserved that.”

Cas turned it around in his hands. “Dean…” He took a step towards the bed. “When you start a fight,” he picked up the other pillow from the bed, “make sure the other side doesn’t have all the ammunition.” He smirked as he looked at Dean.

Dean took it in with a small twitch of confusion before he understood and it relaxed, giving way to let Dean raise his eyebrows. “A pillow fight?” Cas shrugged. “I’m not twelve or a strictly religious college freshmen looking to discover herself at a sorority initiation.”

“Oh,” Cas said and nodded. “Okay.” When Dean turned and walked to the door but before he got there Cas threw one of the pillows at his back.

Dean flinch and stopped in his tracks. He paused before he half-turned his torso and looked at Cas.

“It sounds to me like you’re scared that Scott Lang could take you down,” Cas said with a smile.

Dean raised his right eyebrow in question as he turned all the way to face Cas. “You’re serious,” he said.

Cas tried not to but he smiled as he turned the pillow around in his hands. “Dean…” He tilted his head. “Are you a virgin?” He took a step forward. “It’s okay, we can do this together.”

Dean couldn’t help but grin, hearing his own words repeated back to him seven years later. He leaned down to pick up the pillow and looked at Cas looking satisfied. “You just wanna take ‘em all, huh?” he asked and Cas shrugged, tilting his head towards his shoulder with a smile Dean could not help but mirror. When Cas looked back up Dean pointed to him. “You tell anyone about this I will cut off a specific part of you and put it in a box, drive you out into the desert and make you open it.”

“You might need to buy more peanut butter for that,” Cas said and they both smiled at the reference.

 

Across the street from Dean’s building there was an identical building with an identical apartment layout, balconies and everything. In this building, in the apartment facing Dean’s but one floor up lived a man and his daughter.

James Turner was unknown to Dean or Sam but if he’d wandered around the bunker – for whatever reason that may present itself – a couple of older hunters that worked juvenile busts may remember his face from a few mug shots. If you asked James’ daughter about her father’s early car boosting career she would look at you blankly. The only people that knew about his past were the officers that routinely arrested him and his mother – from whom he was estranged.

One person who had no idea was his daughter, Patience, who was in high school and preparing for her final exams, was sitting on her couch reading a textbook. Patience was a straight A student who was naturally smart but worked hard to keep her grades up. She’d recently quit her dodge-ball team due to stress; she’d told her father that it was because she’d lost interest in the game however, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was feeling the pressure. She had always been a smart child and as a result the people around her had come to have high expectations of her and so the idea that she might let people down was the reason that she could not understand what she was reading. She let it drop to her knee and ran her hands through her hair, feeling like she was struggling to inhale.

She threw the book to the side and ran out onto the balcony, the coolness of the fresh air rushing over her face. She grabbed onto the balcony and closed her eyes. She wished she still had her grandmother in her life. She barely remembered her but she did know that she missed her, that she was a comfort in her life. A safe place. Her father had never really explained why they no longer had her in their lives but all she knew was right then, when she was struggling to inhale, that she felt like the world was a dark, heavy place that was crushing her and she could have used comfort. She opened her eyes, trying not to cry this time.

And she stopped struggling to breathe.

Instead she moved closer to the balcony and looked down into the apartment across the street, in through the window. She blinked a few times, wondering if she was seeing things.

Two fully grown men were having a pillow fight in the living room of the apartment.

She watched as they really whacked each other and ran, the man with the lighter hair dodging fast like someone who grew up with a brother and she briefly wondered if she was watching a moment where a childhood is resurrected. But then, they fell to the couch and he kissed the other man and she smiled. The man with the darker hair called him out and when the other put his hand up in surrender the man nodded seriously. She laughed when he was then hit across the face and evidently resigned himself to the fact that they were playing dirty.

She leaned on the balcony and watched this unfold, unaware that she was breathing normally and laughing to herself. It was surreal to her, like it was a vision that had come to her from an unknown source, a message that grades and expectations would go but laughter would remain in the world.

When they appeared to be slowing down she hesitated, stepping back, her hand still on the wall, then turned away. She didn’t want to see the end of this absurd dream peter out so she dipped back into the living room and decided to put music on and make cupcakes. Because the text book would still be there afterwards but she might not be if she didn’t dance and bake every now and then.

“Hey!” Dean said as Cas’ blow hit his side, he swiped back three times without stopping and Cas’ words got lost when the last swipe hit him in the face. Dean stopped. “Oh, are you-?”

Cas dipped and grabbed him around the middle, hiding his face, and Dean laughed, taking up his assault again.

“Cheater!” Dean said and he twisted and tried to catch him, electing for assaulting the rest of him instead.

He took that moment to liberate Cas’ pillow from him and Cas, knowing all was lost, gripped Dean’s waist tighter and held on to shield his face. He moved from side to side as Dean tried to target him, lost purchase on Dean’s left side just as Dean swiped him from his right and he stumbled, falling. Dean almost lost the pillow and, chasing it, he allowed himself to stumble with Cas and followed him, hitting the couch on their sides. The couch slid away from them while Dean landed more on his back and they rolled so that when they landed on the floor Dean was on top of Cas. If he’d looked up, through his window, right then, he would see lights in the Turner house flickering as James returned home and questioned his daughter as to why she wasn’t studying. As she explained that every now and again she needed to relax Dean settled astride Cas and continued hitting him.

He knocked over an empty glass on the table with the pillow in his right hand while Cas reached for the pillow in his left. Dean threw it over the couch and they ignored the sound of it rattling the dining room table.

Cas knew, as he tried to shield his face, that he was literally trapped between the couch on his right, Dean on top of him and the coffee table on his left.

He knew there was nothing else he could do and so he made one last dash across no man’s land: he waited until Dean had swiped to his right and used his hand to push Dean’s arm up, allowing him to wrap his arms around Dean’s waist and forced his weight forward, pushing Dean backwards and tried to grab the pillow.

“Wait-” Dean said and screwed his eyes closed as the end of the pillow hit him in the face. Dean bent his knees up, planted his feet on the floor at either side of Cas to try and give him more strength behind his swipes.

He hit Cas in the face one last time and Cas grabbed his forearms and pinned them to the floor, taking the pillow and throwing it across the floor. Dean tried to twist to grab it but Cas grabbed his wrists.

Cas grinned and looked down as Dean struggled against his hold, lifting his legs to try and put his knee on Cas’ hip to push him away. Cas moved it away and chuckled as he grabbed Dean’s wrists again. “Who’s Scott Lang now?”

“I don’t even know who that is,” Dean said.

“Ant Man,” Cas replied. “Pre-shrunken.”

“Really?” Dean exhaled. “Wouldn’t take you for a comic book nerd.”

“I’m not,” Cas said and smiled wider. “I’m a Paul Rudd nerd.”

“Oh, really,” Dean asked suggestively. “He your type?”

Cas hummed as he nodded. “He’s a bit of a smart-ass, apparently that’s my type.” He let his head hang a little closer to Dean.

Dean smirked. “What’s the real reason? ‘Cause you don’t watch TV.”

Cas hesitated. “I may have started, since the last time we saw each other.” Out of habit he leaned down further, wanting to touch his lips to Dean’s, and Dean’s eyes dropped to them, his tongue dipped out to lick his lips, wishing they’d just connect.

“What did you watch?”

“Jeopardy,” Cas said, letting his nose rub gently against Dean’s. “To start with.”

“What else?” Dean asked, his voice softening.

“ _Casablanca_ ,  _Stand By Me,_ ” Cas said, just as soft.

“Good choices,” Dean said, rubbing his knee against Cas’ side.

“ _The Godfather_ ,” Cas continued, turning his head and finally kissing Dean quickly.

“Anything else?” Dean asked.

“ _Friends_ ,” Cas said. “I got Netflix,” he explained.

“Really?” Dean asked, lifting his head and Cas kissed him again, nodding. “Marvel?”

“Yes,” Cas said and realized he was holding a lot of his weight on Dean’s wrists and he shifted onto his knees. “Is this okay?”

“What?” Dean asked. Cas squeezed Dean’s wrists just to highlight them. “Oh, yeah,” Dean replied, hardly paying attention to them, too interested in Cas’ eyes. However, he could now feel the warmth of Cas’ firm hold on his wrists, his fingers curled around so softly that Dean wondered how he’d managed to stop the fight with so caressing a touch. It didn’t even enter his mind that it might be restrictive or make him panic, all he could think of was the warmth so close to his lips, the eyes so mesmerizing.

Cas bit his lip and hummed.

“What?” Dean asked, his voice so low it was a whisper.

“I just like looking at you.” Cas said and Dean smiled, wondering what Cas thought when he looked at him.

“You do realize that we’ve gone from pillow fight…” Dean said, his voice the gentle rumble of a tamed tiger. “To kissing on the floor?” Dean smiled. “You even tackled me.”

“I fell,” Cas said, opening his mouth slightly, exhaling, “but what significance does it hold?”

“It’s a cliché,” Dean replied, licking his lip once more as each twitch of Cas’ hands around his wrists sparked something on the surfaces of his skin that burst away.

“In what way?” Cas asked.

“Films, TV shows-”

“I wouldn’t know,” Cas interrupted and then moved towards Dean, his expression changing the moment he decided he was done holding back.

Dean could see the change in his expression and inhaled as soon as Cas leaned down. “I have lube!” he announced, loudly, in a panic.

Cas stopped, nudging back to see Dean better. “Excuse me?”

“At- At  _Costco_ , I bought lube. So I could, maybe-”

“Penetrate me?” Cas guessed.

Dean’s mouth hung open for a second, moving just a little as he tried to find words. “Well, I mean-” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to see if I make you- help you feel better, enjoy it more. Every other time it’s been last minute and not thought through and I know it’s hurt you, I could see. I just thought- Well, I wasn’t thinking, I was just browsing and I saw them and it popped into my head.”

“What did?” Cas asked.

“I wondered if I could make it feels as- as good as it does for me.”

“It does,” Cas said, sincerely.

“You know what I mean,” Dean said. “I just got it in case you wanted to try something. If not, it’s fine, just a thought.”

When he lifted his head to kiss Cas he was shocked when Cas pulled out of his reach, his eyes on Dean were searching. He just wasn’t sure if they were searching him or himself.

“I want to,” Cas said, after a tense silence.

“Seriously?” Dean asked. “Because I’m not trying to pressure you, it was genuinely a spur of the moment thing and I don’t know, maybe we shoulda discussed it before I bought it.”

“No, it’s fine,” Cas said.

“I didn’t mean-”

“Dean, you don’t have to talk to me before you buy these things just before we try them,” Cas said.

Dean smiled slowly. “I’ll remember that.” He wet his lips. “Do you- Do you wanna try now?”

“Yes,” Cas said. “Is that -?”

“Yeah- Yes!” Dean said, nodding as he lifted his head, extending his neck to kiss Cas once. They smiled as they pulled apart and looked at each other, Cas pursing his lips together.

“We should get up then?” Cas asked, kissing his jawline.

“Unless you wanna do it here,” Dean said.

“I have no idea about the best way to do this so I will defer to you,” Cas said.

Dean swallowed and nodded. “Bed,” he decided.

Cas leaned close to Dean as if to kiss him again and then stopped. “Are you sure you want me to move?”

Dean leaned up a little and then lowered his head again. “It depends whether you’d rather roll around here or let me try to make you feel things you’ve never felt before?”

“You’ve already done that,” Cas said, without pause.

Dean drew breath but didn’t know what to say except, “Um, why don’t I get the stuff?”

“And me?” Cas asked. “Where do you want me?”

A collection of scenarios that answered that question flashed through Dean’s mind.

He swallowed hard again. “Bedroom,” he said and as soon as Cas loosened his hold on Dean’s wrists Dean practically bowled him over to stand up.

Cas exhaled as his back hit the coffee table and he looked up, watching Dean scramble to his feet then into the kitchen, searched in the bags for the pharmacy bag. Cas smiled softly to himself and stood up just as Dean found it.

“You coming?” Dean asked as he strode towards the bedroom.

“Hopefully,” Cas replied as he followed him.

Dean turned and smirked as he walked backwards towards the room for a couple of steps then turned back again.

Cas caught up to him in the bedroom and took hold of Dean’s waist, using his weight to push him onto the bed, going with him. They landed on their right sides and Dean laughed as Cas kissed his neck. “Hey,” he said and chuckled again while Cas moved his left hand to Dean’s hip. “Haven’t even got you naked yet.”

“Am I going too fast for you?” Cas asked and moved his hand over Dean’s abdomen.

“Honey, don’t challenge me,” Dean said as Cas used his weight to make Dean roll more onto his right, over the pharmacy bag, it crackled like a fire, slowly being muffled by Dean’s weight.

“I’m not trying to,” Cas replied and tucked his hand under Dean’s shirt. “I’m trying to get  _you_  naked.”

Dean chuckled and hummed as Cas continued to kiss his neck. He sensed Cas was trying to delay this and he wondered if he wanted to drag it out or if he was pushing Cas into something he wasn’t sure of yet.

Cas ran his hand down Dean’s stomach and over the front of his jeans. He unbuttoned them and slipped his hand inside, the metal of the zipper that refused to move biting into his skin. He bent his fingers in and managed to slip into Dean’s underpants. He curled his hand around Dean’s semi-hard dick and stroked.

“Not gonna beat around the bush, huh?” Dean said, knowing now that he had to be pushing Cas too far.

“You don’t seem to be too surprised,” Cas said cockily in Deans ear.

“Cas-” Dean gasped when Cas rubbed his thumb over Dean’s slit. "If you're not sure about this, you can just tell me, you don't have to distract me." Cas stopped and Dean turned his head to look at him. "It was just an idea, we don't have to do it." Cas pursed his lips and looked down. "You don't have to do anything."

"It's not that I don't want to," Cas said, sliding his hand out of Dean's underpants. "I'm just nervous." He sighed and rolled on the bed, using his left hand on the mattress to pull his hips back and sat up as Dean turned on the bed and did the same. "And it's not you, I know it's irrational-"

"No, it's not," Dean interrupted. "It's your body, Cas. You told me I never had to explain what I wanted or didn't want done to  _my_  body. So, why can't you want something  _and_  be nervous?"

Cas exhaled. "I guess," he said. "It just feels like it reflects on how I feel about you."

"It doesn't," Dean said immediately. He wanted to ask Cas just what he did feel for him but he didn't think that taking the subject from sexual to personal would help. "It's to be expected."

Cas looked ahead and then to Dean. "You're not offended?"

"I woulda rathered you'd just told me but no, Cas, I'm not offended, mad, hurt, whatever. Just tell me these things, you should be able to tell me these things." 

Cas smiled. "I'm sorry," he said and leaned to kiss him.

"Do you want to do this? Really?" Dean asked, putting his hand on Cas' face.

"Yes," Cas said, lifting his left hand to hold Dean's wrist. "Really."

Dean kissed him once more and said. "Alright, shuffle up." He gestured his head to the top of the bed and they lowered their hands.

Instead of shuffling backwards on the bed Cas turned, pushing his ass in the air and crawled on his hands and knees. Dean watched him, idly remembering what Cas had said about presenting as he picked up the pharmacy bag and opened it. His eyes met Cas' as he turned on the bed again, fixing the pillow behind his head as he lay there, head slightly elevated, enough for him to comfortably stare at Dean. Dean dropped his gaze to the plastic bottles inside the bag and began looking at them, trying to find the right one.

"Not that one," he muttered to himself.

"What's the difference?" Cas asked.

Dean looked up to him then back down to the bottles and was struck by something he'd never realized: he was a screwed up sonofabitch. His automatic reaction was to brush Cas' question aside, tell him it didn't matter, he'd take care of it. Just like everything else in his life. Just like he'd told Sam every time he asked where dinner was coming from, or new pants, or what Dad was going to do every time they did something they weren't supposed to. When Bobby had said it to them the first week they'd stayed with him they hadn't trusted him to follow through with it so Dean'd fixed the lamp himself. As the weeks rolled into months the brothers soon recognized Bobby Singer as the first and only person, besides each other, that they could trust. But this wasn't changing the oil or hustling pool, this wasn't something Dean could claim as his responsibility; this was _their_ sex life, their... relationship.

Dean stared at the bottles and then looked up to Cas who looked from the bottles to Dean and smiled; it was expectant and perhaps nervous but trusting.

Instead of brushing the question off, Dean grabbed the bag together in his right hand and used his left to push up the bed, pausing to force his shoes off with his feet. He lay next to Cas on his left elbow and lay the bag on the bed between them, taking one out of the bag. "This-" He dropped it and picked it up again, turning it. "This one..." He read it. "This is for- for- v-" He cleared his throat. "Va-" He cleared his throat again, hoping Cas would help him out but when he looked up to him he just smiled. "It's for va-" He hummed.

"You can do it," Cas said, amused.

Dean chuckled awkwardly. "Okay," he said and cleared his throat again, looking down. "It's for vaginal... penetration-"

"Well done," Cas said.

"Thank you," Dean said quickly. "And this-" Dean held it out to Cas who took it, turning it over in his hands as Dean rummaged for another in the bag. After one glance he let it fall back in to the bag and picked out the other. "This is for anal penetration."

Cas took it and compared the two. The first one Dean had given him had 'with tingle sensation' on the front and the other said 'chemically safe'.

"Is this how you know?" Cas asked, pointing the phrases out while holding a bottle in each hand with the index finger of the opposing hand.

"What?" Dean leaned to read them. "Oh, no," he said and took the first, turning it around. "See this ingredient here?" Cas' eyes went to the bold writing he was indicating. "That can't be used anally, it's damaging. So, if it doesn't have that we can use it for- for-" He nodded. "You know."

"And that's not damaging to you?" Cas asked.

"No," Dean said, shaking his head and Cas nodded. "I mean, some people can have a reaction but if that happens you just wash a few times and you should be good to go." He shrugged. "Unless you're allergic, then it's probably more serious."

Cas nodded. "Undoubtedly." Dean nodded. "Anything else?"

"Uh," Dean turned the second one, "look for this-" He pointed to a symbol on the 'chemically safe' bottle. It was a small rainbow with writing around it. "Means it's certified by the-" He looked up, trying to remember it correctly. "C-S-S-A. Yeah, chemically safe-sex association." He looked back to Cas who looked a little like he didn't believe what he was hearing. "Yeah, dumb name," Cas smiled, "but it means that every time they charge the formula it's tested to make sure it doesn't cause like, boils and cancer and shit."

"How do you know this?" Cas asked.

"The woman in the pharmacy told me, she gave me a leaflet," Dean slid it out of the bag enough to be seen but not all the way, "but said most people don't read 'em and since I was buying she explained some then left me and I read it." He looked at Cas and his face tensed when he noticed that Cas' look was searching. "What? I suggested this to make this better and safer for you, I don't wanna damage you internally in the process, sue me." He shrugged and pulled the other bottle out enough to be seen. "The other's a dumb flavored one, I don't know, it was three for twenty bucks and I panicked." Cas had to laugh and Dean looked up at him and smiled. "Screw you, you buy it next time, see if you do it with a straight face."

"So this one?" Cas gestured to the CSSA approved one and put it on the night stand to his left.

"Yeah," Dean said, wondering how Cas managed to be nervous and nonchalant at the same time. He scrunched the bag closed and hastily opened the drawer to shove it inside. As he turned back he saw Cas pulling his jeans open. "Hey," Dean said and Cas looked up. "That's my job." He leaned back over him and Cas chuckled nervously as Dean kissed his cheek.

"Sorry," Cas said, lifting his left hand to Dean's head.

"Better be," Dean replied.

Cas' hands moved over Dean's neck as he began kissing Cas' lips and Dean planted his hands in the bed. In Cas' haste to undress he'd revealed his anxiety to Dean and he didn't want to just jump in, he wanted to take it slow, get Cas relaxed. Dean shifted so that his right elbow rested on the pillow, flattening it somewhat, and his left cupped Cas' jaw, allowing him to lower to the bed more and lie in between Cas' legs as he opened them to let Dean settle comfortably. Dean leaned and kissed the left side of Cas' neck, nipping too, all along his jaw line until Cas tilted his head back and exhaled as he let his eyes shut and, as Dean let his tongue sponge against his neck he could feel himself sink into it. He even hummed with content. Dean slowly ran his right hand down over Cas' chest to his side, then his hips, rucking Cas' t-shirt up.

As his hand ran over Cas' stomach he thought about how much he loved how Cas' skin felt; it was warm under his t-shirt and equal parts twitched and stayed soft under his touch telling Dean that he was still reacting to the contact but that it wasn't unwelcome or inappropriate. And when he arched into the touch Dean had never felt so wanted.

He was slowly realizing what this was between Cas and himself, maybe it'd started out as physical attraction or trust - he still wasn't sure which had come first - maybe it'd been sex to begin with, just raw, animal lust. But this? The way Dean moved his hand to Cas' side and lifted his waist towards him, the way their crotches met, they buzzed with  something mutual and it was enticing but as Dean lowered them the inch or so back to the bed and let his hand stroke up, resting his thumb over Cas' naturally soft chest , just grazing his nipple, he felt a tumescent ache in his chest as his affection for Cas glowed. Instead of panicking and pushing Cas away, running from him, throwing him out, never contacting him again, he let it sit there, it seemed to make each kiss, inhale and touch more intense.

Cas' natural scent reminded him of a forest in the spring, the moisture in the air making it so that anyone who inhaled hard enough could taste the trees, flowers, fruits, streams. As they kissed he could taste a warm afternoon, haunted by fog and the smoke from campfires that could never quite get started properly. As Cas moved against him his weigh pushed the air out of the pillow, it came out cold and musty and Dean felt a bird of prey sweep past him, bringing with it a clean slate, making the next kiss taste as it had done the first time.

He lifted his thumb then pushed his nail over Cas' nipple, Cas inhaled then hummed as Dean pushed Cas' t-shirt up. He kissed his clavicle, over the fabric, then moved to his sternum while Cas' hand ran through his hair and hummed again. Dean leaned up to let him pull Cas' t-shirt off. Cas closed his eyes as Dean tugged to pull it off and then threw it to the ground, instantly kissing Cas' chest then sucking his left nipple. He kissed down Cas' sternum and when his right hand touched Cas' hip Cas lifted them as if arching into the touch and Dean felt them momentarily push the material of his t-shirt against his chest.

Dean leaned over Cas, lifted his left hand, tucked his fingers into Cas' waistband and tugged at them. "Do you want me to keep going?" Dean asked, smugly.

"Yes," Cas replied with an exhale. "Take your shirt off."

Dean chuckled and leaned back, moving his hands to lift it from behind his neck and pulled it over his head, Cas watched as his stomach was revealed, then his chest. His nipples lifted as he stretched up to pull it off of his left arm, he then lowered them and dragged it off his right and threw it to the side, on the floor.

"Better?" Dean asked, leaning forward to unbutton Cas' pants.

"Definitely," Cas said.

Dean leaned back once again, pulling Cas' shoes off and throwing them too.

"Do you throw everything you don't need to the floor?" Cas asked while Dean was leaning over and kissing his stomach and unzipping his pants.

"When it comes to your clothes-" He looked up, smirking, and Cas shook his head.

"Don't say it," Cas said.

"But-"

"Don't," Cas repeated with a laugh.

"They look better on my floor," Dean said, grinning wider.

Cas groaned and let his hands come up to cover his face. "You're so goofy." And yet he smiled.

"Nu-uh," Dean said and leaned back on his heels again to pull Cas' pants down and then off. He threw them to the floor then leaned over to look. "Yup," he said and looked back to Cas. "They definitely look better there."

Cas managed not to smile and instead mocked hurt. "You don't like me in those pants?"

Dean chuckled. "Oh yeah, but only because they make me want to get you out of them," Dean said.

Dean ran his hand up Cas' legs, feeling the hairs starting to stand up with the new chill and warmth of the skin. After the knees Dean let his nails drag over the skin, up his thighs, and pushed his white boxer shorts up to the tops of his legs. He leaned down to his right and kissed Cas' thigh, actually being able to taste the cool air on his tongue. He then bit it. It sent a jolt of arousal through Cas, he moaned and ate it up while Dean continued to nibble at the skin. Dean put his left hand over Cas' crotch and pushed upwards, and stroked Cas' cock, which he happily found to be hard.

Cas groaned louder and Dean's mind was racing; he had to do this right but it was really difficult to stay slow, he was just glad of the aid of the early evening lighting to gauge Cas' reactions.

"You still wanna do this?" Dean asked and bit the skin on Cas' left thigh.

Cas grunted. "Yes, Dean, yes." He groaned as he writhed under Dean's stroking hand.

"What do you want, Cas?" Dean asked as he snapped Cas' underwear band softly.

Cas sighed and wiped the hair that was stuck to his forehead. "Right now I'd like to be moaning your name while you penetrate me with your fingers," Dean's eyebrows raised, "but you seem to be intent on making me wait and beg."

"Beg?" Dean said, not able to deny he was a little interested in that but when Cas glared at him he shook his head to dismiss the idea. He took Cas' left hand in his right and pressed them to his chest. "I'm just making sure, babe," he said softly.

"I'll tell you," Cas said but when Dean gave him a doubtful look he smiled. "I will."

Dean looked at him and smiled too. "Yeah, alright." He settled on his knees and pulled Cas' underwear down, Cas lifted his legs to help him but shyly turned them to the side as they came down his lower legs and he took over and got them off of his ankles. He threw them to the floor, Dean watched his face flush as he did so. When Cas lay back down he found Dean kneeling in front of him and smiling. 

"What?" Cas said, flushing more.

"Nothing," Dean said. "You're- You're cute." Cas smiled too and as he settled on the bed Dean's eyes wandered.

Dean has to admit that it was still strange to see Cas out of heat, not just in stature but in the size of his penis and testicles. He was still bigger then Dean but the skin wasn't tight, he wasn't red with the hormonally-charged arousal and he wasn't leaking precum. Dean smirked to himself; not yet. As much as he wasn't used to seeing it he relished the sight; it still made him tingle because it was another part of Cas he got to see and discover and know. He licked his lips, knowing that he could easily make Cas whimper with his mouth, moan and sweat, run his fingers through Dean's hair over his neck and shoulders. But he didn't, instead he rubbed his hands up and down Cas' thighs.

"Honey, I uh-" Dean licked his lips. "I gotta be honest, here," Cas' eyes narrowed at him, "you on your front is meant to be easier but I feel like I'd rather see your face, to judge what I'm doing is right. But what do you want?"

Cas thought about it. "I'll stay like this," he said.

"Okay," Dean agreed.

"How do you know about this?" Cas asked as Dean leaned to pick up the bottle from the nightstand.

"Uh, the woman at the pharmacy and I- uh-" He cleared his throat as he took the clear plastic off with his teeth and let that fall to the floor too. "Might have googled some stuff."

"Since  _Costco_?" Cas asked.

"No," Dean said with a smirk. "A while ago I was curious if there were ways to make it better for you so I-"

"Did you watch some porn?" Cas teased.

"No," Dean said. "Just found some dos and don'ts."

"Oh," Cas said and watched Dean squeeze lube out of the bottle onto his right hand before dropping it to the bed next to Cas' hip and then used his left hand to coat his right index and middle finger.

Cas watched his hand, his fingers curled around the others, move up and down. He felt his jaw slacken and, when Dean looked to him he realized he was transfixed and smirked, slowing down Cas sensed Dean was staring at him and, after a quick glance to confirm it, looked away embarrassed.

"Don't," Dean said and leaned on his left hand over him. "It's supposed to turn you on." His voice softened, "Cas, aren't you turned on?"

Cas looked up at him, his nose touching Cas' gently enough to tickle. "Dean," he said, just as softly, "even thinking of you turns me on." He lifted his hand to Dean's face. "Have I not expressed this plainly enough?"

Dean's breath seemed to stop in his chest. "I-"

Cas' face changed to worry. "I've said something wrong and made you uncomfortable."

"No," Dean shook his head, "not wrong, I just don't know what to say."

Cas smiled but it was still laced with worry. "Then don't say anything." He paused. "We don't need to talk right now, right?"

Dean didn't answer before exhaling nervously and leaning over Cas on his left hand again. "Ready?" he asked.

A thought suddenly entered into Cas' head as the process of what they were about to do appeared in his head and he panicked. "Wait," he said and leaned up on his elbows. "I'll be right back." Cas shifted on the bed and Dean leaned back as he ran from the room.

Dean looked to the doorway as Cas ran across the living-room to the bathroom and then looked to his fingers as he sat back on his heels. "All lubed up and nowhere to go," he muttered.

Cas closed the bathroom door behind him and looked under the sink, rooting around in a rush. He ended up kneeling down and dipping inside. When he found an unopened toiletry bag that Dean got from a cop friend of his meant for the road - she made a joke about him never shaving and Dean tried not to punch Sam as he smirked knowing that Dean had his own toiletry bag in his car and did shave during hunts - that he was keeping for when his current one had been worn out. He opened it and made a noise of triumph when he found a tub of petroleum jelly. He took out the tub and, sat back, still on bending knees, took some from the jar and coated his right fingers like Dean had. He inhaled as he pushed his fingers inside himself, pushing passed the resistance, as far as he could. He removed them and looked at them, finding them clean he sighed with relief. 

"Thank God," he muttered to himself, he stood up and washed his hand before putting everything back.

When he walked back into the bedroom Dean was stood at the bottom of his bed with his back to the door with his shirt back on. He turned when he heard Cas behind him.

"Hey," he said.

"Hello," Cas said, confused. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "Should we see what's on TV?" He walked forward to go passed Cas but Cas put his hands out to stop him.

"Dean, what's-" He looked over Dean's face and his eyes fell. "Dean, I wasn't running away." Dean looked back up. "I was-" He swallowed and looked down. "I was checking for something."

"For what?" Dean asked, confused, but when Cas stared at him he tried to consider what he could possibly be checking for. He ran through his google search in his head and suddenly he realized. "Oh!" he said.

Cas nodded. "Yes," Cas replied. "Dean, I understand you're making sure I'm okay with this but if you don't take your shirt off right now I'm gonna either start that pillow fight again or tear it off of you."

Dean tried not to smirk. "Which would you prefer?"

Cas' look hardened and Dean couldn’t place the emotion. He stepped forward, stopped in front of Dean and paused before he pulled his t-shirt up over Dean’s head. He lifted his arms to help him and when his eyes met Cas’ again he threw Dean’s shirt to the floor.

He turned his head to look. “I see what you mean,” Cas said and looked back to Dean when they both smiled.

Cas pursed his lips together and Dean licked his lips before he rushed to him and kissed him passionately. Cas gently pushed Dean backwards, going with him, before pushing him onto the bed, again going with him. By the time they’d gotten back to where they’d left off, at the head of the bed - Cas lying on his back and Dean leaning over him with lube on his fingers - they were both completely naked and the sky had begun to darken as the afternoon turned to evening. Dean didn’t ask Cas if he was still sure or if he was ready he just slowly pushed his index finger inside, watching Cas’ face intently. Dean dipped his head and kissed him once before Cas nodded and Dean began moving that finger in and out, slowly.

It was obvious Dean was nervous of hurting him, but what might not have been obvious was Cas’ own nerves, or indeed what he was nervous of. He was wary of what he’d feel was, more accurately, a kind of anxious awe; Dean had already made him feel more new emotions than he thought it was possible to ever feel in one whole lifetime so how could there possibly be more? More pleasure? And yet, he knew, if there was then no one else was supposed to show him and even if there was he wouldn’t want them to.

It seemed to him now – as Dean entered the second finger, causing Cas to moan, and kissed his jaw – that while there had only ever been Dean, there was only ever _meant_ to be Dean.

Images began running through Dean’s mind about the things he could do for Cas, the things he could make him feel. His hand pumped gradually faster into Cas while his moans got louder and less inhibited.

“That feel good?” Dean asked as he continued kissing Cas’ neck.

“Yes,” Cas gasped, his left hand in Dean’s hair and his right grabbing the pillow tight.

“How’d you feel about switching places?” Dean asked without stopping.

“You want-” Cas groaned. “Me- to do this- to you?” he asked breathlessly.

“No, just want you on top,” Dean replied in Cas’ ear.

Cas nodded. “Okay.”

Dean looked down and Cas exhaled when Dean removed his fingers and leaned back. Cas moved to his own right while Dean lifted his fingers so that when he put the heel of his right hand on the bed the lube didn’t transfer. Cas watched him move the pillows and lie down practically sitting up. Cas lifted his right leg over Dean and straddled his hips.

“Further,” Dean said and Cas looked at him so he gestured up towards his head. “Closer.” He pointed at his mouth and looked from Cas’ eyes to his penis.

Cas looked down then to Dean who was looking up at him again as he registered what Dean was suggesting. “Really?”

“Yeah, if you want to,” Dean said.

“But what if-”

“I can take it,” Dean assured him.

“I don’t want you to _take_ it.”

“I _mean_ , I can handle you fucking my face, Cas,” he said and the word went straight to Cas’ crotch. “I’ll stop you if I can’t.” He gestured to his face again and licked his lips as his eyes fell once more to Cas’ dick, the look hungry.

Cas hesitated but then decided to trust him and besides, he _really_ wanted what he was offering. So much so that heat rushed down his upper legs when he shuffled up the bed. Dean’s left hand went behind him, holding his buttock, before he changed his mind and used it to guide Cas’ cock to his mouth while Cas’ hands went to the head board and he steadied himself. Dean nudged him with his left hand so that he took more of Cas in his mouth, however at that moment – at the moment Cas’ closed his eyes, almost fully in Dean’s mouth – Dean’s right hand moved to push his two fingers back into Cas, not as far as they were in previously but enough to make Cas moan loudly in surprise. Dean quickly began to slide his fingers in and out of Cas, making his hips move and Cas took the hint, he slowly started thrusting into Deans mouth.

He didn’t realize that Dean then started to follow his lead, moving his hand and mouth in time with Cas’ thrusts and they all fell into a rhythm that Cas wasn’t sure he could survive, it was too much – it felt like penetrating and being penetrated. His voice got louder, his hands gripped the headboard harder, his hips moved faster and his toes curled.

“Dean, don’t stop-” Cas muttered in between breaths as he let his head fall forward, tightening his arms when he pulled the headboard towards him. His moans and heavy breaths suddenly started to come as quick as his hips moved and he breathed Dean’s name in warning before he called it out loud, his hips almost stopping as he came, Dean’s fingers still moving in and out of him.

Dean had been watching Cas’ face the entire time – when he could see it – except the end when he had to close his eyes and concentrate. Cas seemed frozen for a second as he regained his breath before he began to move his leg on the bed, prompting Dean to take his fingers out and when Cas moved his hips back Dean let him pull out, stretching his jaw. Cas turned on the bed and threw himself down on the bed next to Dean.

Dean turned his head to watch him; Cas had his eyes closed and his chest was heaving.

“How was that?” Dean asked.

Cas nodded. “Yeah,” he said in an exhale. “Yes.”

“Yes?” Dean repeated. “What’s ‘yes’?”

“Wow, yes is wow,” Cas said and forced a breath out of his mouth, trying to steady his breathing.

Dean paused. “Wow?”

Cas nodded again. “Yes.” He lifted his hand and wiped his forehead.

Dean settled back, smiling proudly to himself. “Wow,” he repeated.

Cas was slowly getting his breath back. “That was- I’m sorry if I got carried away.”

“You didn’t,” Dean assured him. “As long as it felt good.”

“Yes, it felt amazing,” Cas said and opened his eyes to look at him. “Would you like stimulation now?”

Dean exhaled a laugh through his nose. “No, I’m good, thanks.” He smiled. “I’m amazing,” he teased.

Cas smiled, a tinge of red rushing to his cheeks. “Shut up.”

Dean leaned into him. “I’m wow.”

Cas shook his head and then looked at him, they smiled as their eyes met. “Yes, you are,” he said and Dean’s eyes looked down in embarrassment, “but I already knew that.” Dean looked back up.

>><< 

The evening had comfortably settled over the town of Lawrence; down by the lakes the amateur and hobby fishermen had gone home long ago so that the water was undisturbed by birds and humans alike. Cars were crawling in the midweek late rush hour caused by work to catch up on or post work stop-offs at wine bars and public houses to get them to the end of the week. There were groups getting on buses, friends accidentally meeting on corners and stopping to discuss life and other trivia. There were women leaving yoga classes and children being coaxed into their houses to get ready for bedtime. As a couple of men slowly walked up the steps of a motel on the other side of town, one explaining to the other how their mini-society worked the rain began to fall as the wind pushed it away from the men towards the apartment where Cas and Dean were on season three of ‘ _Dr Sexy’_. With just the one lamp on the end table on it wasn’t as easy to see the living room but the pair’s almost empty dinner plates were still on the coffee table.

“I like her,” Cas said.

“Dr Yang?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” Cas said.

“She can be a bit hard.”

“She says exactly what she means,” Cas said. “You don’t have to decipher anything.”

Dean looked to him, his right arm on the back of the couch behind Cas. “Have you always had trouble with that?”

“With what?”

“Reading between the lines.”

Cas thought about it then slowly nodded. “I guess I have,” he said. “Once, there was a boy who stayed at our orphanage, he was fostered a lot, by lots of different families. His longest foster was with a family with a father who was an A-squad captain, he came back different, he’d picked up habits he hadn’t had before.”

“Like what?” Dean asked.

Cas looked to him. “He started getting up at dawn, he’d always be fifteen minutes early, he made his bed like you do, folded his socks like you-”

Dean thought about that; he’d never known those weren’t how everyone had done them until other hunters moved into the bunker.

“He said to me once-” Cas continued, shuffling on the couch, “He said, ‘Do me a favor, make a hole!’”

“Yeah?” Dean asked. “You didn’t know what that meant?”

“Well, after five hours of digging in the rain I learned that it was just an expression that meant ‘get out of my way’.

“Wait, you actually dug a hole?”

“Yes, until Gabriel set me straight.”

"Who's Gabriel?" Dean asked, lifting his right arm up to the elbow and ran his fingers through the side of Cas’ hair.

“My brother,” Cas said.

“I thought you were an only child?”

“Yes, he wasn’t my blood relative however those of us that were staying long-term became a brotherhood.”

“You were there long-term?”

“Well, from birth until I was adopted,” he said and cleared his throat. “When I wasn’t running away.”

Dean’s eyebrows lifted. “Any chance you want to elaborate?”

Cas smiled a little. “Yes,” he said. “I-” He stopped and looked down.

Dean waved his hand. “No, it’s okay, you don’t have to tell me, it’s okay.” He looked back to the TV.

Cas looked at him and sighed. “It’s silly now,” Dean looked at him, “however when a potential,” Cas lifted his hands and used quotation marks, “‘forever family’ passed me up I’d run away for two days.”

Dean tutted, turning towards Cas with a fond smile, lifting his hand and stroking Cas’ arm as he said, “Aw, hon.”

Cas looked down and his face fell to hurt. “Please don’t make fun of me,” Cas said softly, moving his hands together in his lap.

Dean was hit so hard by how Cas had said it that his hand fell back to the sofa. “I wasn’t,” he said. “It’s just weird to me, the idea of you being emotional. But it’s totally normal.”

“Is it?” he asked, confusion and disbelief mixed on his face.

Dean paused. “To be honest, Cas, I don’t have any experience but I can only guess that it must have been hard. You had to feel like you were in a shop window. Every time someone kept walking you must have asked yourself what was wrong with you.”

“I did,” Cas said, mildly surprised that Dean would know that. “I was either too young or too quiet or looked ill.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that it wasn’t you that was the problem, it was them?”

Cas nodded and then smiled. “Gabriel did.” He looked to the side thinking about him. “He used to do magic tricks for the younger boys. When new boys came he’d calm them down or stop them crying with a card or coin trick. He’d try it on me but after the years we were the only two left and it lost its affect.”

“Really?” Dean asked, stroking Cas’ cheek. “Who wouldn’t want you?”

Cas opened his mouth and then looked away, unsure what to say. “Ga- Gabriel kept me sane throughout my childhood.” He gave Dean a small smile.

“Do you see a lot of him?” Dean asked.

“No,” Cas said sadly. “After I was adopted and I’d ran away and came back-”

“You ran away from your parents?” Dean asked, turning more towards Cas.

“Yes,” Cas answered curtly and Dean decided to drop the clearly sore subject. “After I’d settled in my parents brought me to visit the orphanage, to see him.”

He stopped and Dean watched his face, he looked far away. “He’d already been adopted?”

“No,” Cas said and shook his head, “he’d ran away.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Cas nodded. “Every time I’d ran away he’d told me that it was giving up.”

“He never ran away with you?”

“No, he helped look after the younger boys, if he’d left they’d have been terrified.” Cas swallowed. "I never did find out what had made me give up and run."

Dean shuffled on the spot. “Was it rough, for you?”

Cas hesitated, his head bowed and his eyes looking at his hands. “No,” he said weakly and Dean’s brow dipped in pain, knowing he was lying. “No,” he said stronger as he lifted his head, “but the new boys were there either because their parents had died, they’d been abused or because they couldn’t care for them anymore. They were scared, felt abandoned and worthless. There was one child, he came to live with us when he was seven but they thought he was four.”

“How could they not know the kid’s age?”

“They wouldn’t tell us why. All we know is that he couldn’t talk, he had a special tutor but he wouldn’t respond. Gabriel and I tried to teach him but he never spoke. One night I got up for a drink and I heard talking. I walked over to his bed but he wasn’t there, I found him under Gabriel’s bed with his blanket and pillow.”

“Wait, you weren’t in beds next to each other?” Dean asked. “How big was this room?”

“It was a large square room and everyone had a locker-”

“Like in the army?”

Cas shrugged. “I guess, I don’t know. I preferred to be beside the window, Gabriel was beside the door to stop the children who tried to run away.” Dean smiled and Cas thought it was thoughtful so he tilted his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” Dean said but Cas continued to look at him, “It’s just the idea that two brothers named after angels watched over the lost boys.”

Cas chuckled and smiled fondly, thinking about the image he saw. “Gabriel was lying on the floor telling him stories. He said that he’d bet that no one had spoken to him or just spent time with him, especially because he never spoke back.”

“Why was he under the bed?”

“Gabriel said he’d gotten up to go to the bathroom and noticed the bed was empty, he was already curled under there.” Cas paused. “We never did find out why.”

“He never spoke?”

“He was adopted by a child therapist and her husband.”

“What was his name?”

“He didn’t have one but he really liked Paul’s rabbit so he gave it to him and we called him Peter,” Cas explained. “I wonder about him sometimes.” Dean raised his eyebrows in question. “Every child that comes in after birth – meaning old enough to remember they had a home – for whatever reason they had a fear or something, the dark, adult males, belts-”

Dean momentarily closed his eyes as he heard the crack of a belt and his own teenage voice yelling in pain. Cas saw it and paused, realizing what Dean was thinking about, when Dean opened his eyes he continued, hoping to spare Dean from the knowledge that Cas had figured it out.

“Peter was afraid of outside. I liked the stars which is why I had a bed by the window however Peter really didn’t like the sky, he would react with fear and mumbling, Gabriel even had to turn his bed around so that he wasn’t facing the window and he’d stop crying. I still wonder now what happened to him to make him afraid of the sky.

Dean thought about it. “Maybe what happened to the others in the dark happened to him outside.”

Cas nodded. “Maybe.”

“When me and Sam were kids,” Dean started and Cas looked to him, “sometimes Dad would go into bars and wouldn’t come out until morning and sometimes he wouldn’t trust us to stay in the car so we’d lie on the hood – or the grass when the engine was too hot – and look at the stars.” He looked to the window. “I couldn’t sleep if I couldn’t see the stars for a long time.”

“You mostly close the blinds at night,” Cas said and Dean looked at him, “I don’t remember you watching the stars.”

“Well,” Dean said, “I’ve had you to look at and make me feel safe, haven’t I?”

Cas looked over his face. “Did the stars make you feel safe?”

Dean thought about it. “In a way,” he said. “They made me feel small.”

Cas’ eyes narrowed. “And that was a good thing?”

“The world kept turning no matter what happened, whether my dad whacked me or not, whether we had a bed for the night or food, the universe kept going, the sun went down, the stars came out and everything went quiet. I liked it when it was quiet.”

There was a silence between them.

“Do I make you feel small?” Cas asked gently.

Dean kept his eye contact for a second before he said, “No,” with a slow shake of his head.

Cas tilted his head an inch. “How do I make you feel?”

Dean’s mouth gaped for a quick moment before he stuttered, “How do you-?” He cleared his throat. “You-” He swallowed. “You make me feel-” He shrugged. “Well, almost normal.”

Cas smiled. “Dean, you are normal.”

Dean nodded. “That’s what I mean, I almost believe you.”

Dean found Cas staring at him and he smiled awkwardly then looked back to the TV, Cas sensing his discomfort decided to turn his attention back to the program too.

“I have no idea what’s happening now,” Cas said.

“Yeah,” Dean said as he reached for the remote and rewound it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One step forward, two steps back. Since Dean and Cas seem to usually take twelve back this has to be progress, right? ... Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, get ready to hate me.
> 
> *builds protective fort where you can't find me*
> 
> Also, I have a bad habit of trying to upload these at 5am, which is why they have a lot of spelling mistakes, despite my attempts to fix them. I apologize for that, please don't hesitate to point any out, I won't be offended or anything, I want it all to be right.

Dean and Cas woke up differently that morning; Cas woke up with the sudden need to urinate and the motion of his panicked departure from the bed - as well as his equally panicked but stumbled exit from the bedroom - woke Dean to a headache. When Cas was pulling open his pants and sighing in relief Dean was groaning and lifting his left hand to his head. Cas walked unsteadily back to the bedroom and, seeing that Dean had his back to him, he climbed onto the bed then clambered ungracefully over Dean.

“What-?” Dean started and found himself momentarily trapped beneath the sheet until Cas lifted it and slipped in. “Let me move back-”

“No,” Cas said and wrapped his right arm around Dean’s middle and crushed him close so that Dean groaned until Cas loosened his hold. Dean wrapped both arms around Cas and pulled him in so that Cas’ head was under Dean’s chin and against his neck and chest.

“Cas?” Dean asked and he hummed. “I could be wrong- But, did you want a hug?” Cas moved his hand to Dean’s side and squeezed, making Dean jump as the tickling sensation seized him. He began to move his left hand down to try and defend himself. “Hey!” he laughed and when Cas didn’t appear to be about to repeat the action he calmed and pulled Cas in again. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Cas grumbled. “You were facing the wrong way.”

Dean chuckled then winced as a pain shot through his head. “Sonofa-”

Cas leaned back to look at him. “What?”

“Just a sore head,” he said.

Cas smiled a little. “I know a natural remedy for that.” He smirked when Dean looked at him.

Dean smiled too. “Really?”

Cas nodded as he kissed Dean and rolled him onto his back with his hand on Dean’s left side. The movement made Dean’s stomach lurch but he ignored it, trying to force it down. He hummed deep in his throat as Cas lifted his leg to straddle him and ran his hands up Cas’ thighs, his pants felt cool compared to his sweaty palms.

“That’s one way to get my attention,” Dean croaked as Cas began to kiss his jawline, he was still sleepy and he closed his eyes to the feeling of his skin waking up to Cas’ touch.

Cas chuckled against his skin. “I thought it might,” he muttered and kissed Dean on the lips, his neck extending up when Cas slowly pulled back. They continued to kiss, the duration extending as quickly as the casual, drowsy atmosphere turned towards sex.

Cas jumped a little when Dean dipped his hands into the back of Cas’ pants, squeezed his buttock in a sluggish move and the tip of his index finger brushed over Cas’ anus; it wasn't a deliberate move on Dean's part but he hadn't expected Cas to jump either. He didn’t stop kissing Dean but Dean moved his hand.

“Sorry,” Dean mumbled.

“No,” Cas said quickly, lifting his hand to Dean’s neck. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually want to-”

“I always want-”

Cas’ look sharpened. “Dean,” he warned.

“I want it,” Dean said, “I want you, right now,” he elaborated, understanding Cas’ hesitation and annoyance. They rushed to take Cas’ pants off but settled back into their positions.

Cas arched his back to allow them to kiss as he moved over Dean, breaking away as he stroked Dean under him and he moaned.

“Not hard enough for you?” Dean asked with a smirk when Cas hesitated.

“I was thinking about lubrication,” Cas said, kissing Dean’s cheek.

“Oh, we threw it somewhere,” Dean said and looked to his left as Cas looked to his. “Oh!” He pointed and Cas looked, lifting his leg to allow Dean to bend, stretching his hand out to the floor. His fingers danced in the air as he tried to grab it, Cas saw him struggling and bent over instead, letting Dean lean back, his headache pulsing.

Cas opened the bottle and held out it to squirt some into Dean’s palm and stretched to put it on the nightstand as Dean lubed up his dick. His brow dipped as he felt queasy but let it relax when Cas turned back and lifted his leg over him again, lifting himself onto his knees to allow Dean to keep going.

“Okay,” Dean said and lifted his head when Cas leaned down to kiss him, Dean moved his hand under him and Cas lifted up. “What?”

“Just-” Cas inhaled. “Last night was great but-”

“But?” Dean asked and leaned but, concern on his face. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” Cas said and put his hand out. “No, baby, no.” He smiled as the memory floated into his head. “Nothing wrong.”

Dean smiled too. “Yeah?”

Cas pressed his nose to Dean’s softly and they chuckled. “Yeah, but sometimes I just want to-” He hesitated.

“Go at it?” Dean finished for him.

“Yes, exactly,” Cas said.

“And uh-” Dean tilted his head to his left and his eyes fell to Cas’ lips as he lifted his left hand, letting his index finger tickle Cas’ shoulder. “That’s what you want right now?”

Cas breathed, “Yeah,” just as he surged forward and kissed him again, Dean’s left hand lifted to Cas’ face. He lifted up and Dean held himself in position and they both groaned into each other’s mouths as he sank down. He stopped halfway with a hiss.

“You okay?” Dean said.

“Yes,” Cas said and sank down to Dean’s hips.

“You good?” Dean mumbled against his lips and Cas nodded. “So good,” Dean said softly and Cas nodded again.

Cas slowly started to move, his breath escaping out the sides of their mouths as he groaned, causing them lean back from each other. Cas closed his eyes as he picked up his speed.

Dean hummed and his uneasiness grew, his stomach clenched and he considered stopping Cas for a minute but the way his right hand held his neck as he kissed him, breathless grunting as he moved, went right to his crotch. He deliberately exhaled and shook his head minutely.

If Cas had seen his expression he would have inquired as to the reason but as his eyes were closed he leaned back a little and rolled his hips further.

Dean couldn’t help but let his head tilt up as the sensation intensified and he gripped onto Cas’ thighs and then let his hands loosen, rubbing them up and down. He pursed his lips together and tried to push the feeling down, hoping it would fade, but he couldn’t deny it, the nausea wasn’t going to let up. He hummed, trying to stop himself from retching, but Cas moaned in response, thinking it was pleasure fueled.

“Cas-” Dean eventually said, pursing his lips together hard before he could continue as the feeling quickly rose.

Cas nodded. “Dean,” he said in response.

Dean shook his head, he couldn’t keep it down anymore and he wasn’t sure he could risk trying to talk again but he had to stop this. “Cas, I-”

It leaped up from his stomach and he surged up from lying down, and leaned over to his left, over the side of the bed, making Cas open his eyes and stop moving as he looked to Dean. He was just in time to see Dean vomit onto the floor.

“Oh, God,” Cas said and tried to move but his right leg was trapped by Dean who was holding onto the outside of Cas’ thigh. He moved his hand to the mattress side and he gripped it hard as he continued to throw up.

“M’sorry,” Dean mumbled and then retched again.

“No,” Cas said and shook his head, “it’s alright, Dean,” Cas said and rubbed his left hand up Dean’s back. “It’s okay,” he reassured.

“Tried to stop-” Dean managed to say, vomit dripping from his mouth onto the floor, before he hummed in response to the quick swelling of the nausea.

“Let me out and I’ll get a bucket,” Cas said and Dean leaned back a little.

Cas pulled off and managed to free himself before he looked over the bed and jumped up, avoiding the puddle of vomit, and ran around it, out into the main room. He ran into the kitchen and hesitated for a few seconds then dipped to grab the bucket under the sink. He dumped its contents into the empty sink and ran back to the bedroom, jogging in the door just as Dean shook his head and hummed in warning. He lunged forward, to the right to miss the puddle, and extending his arms out so Dean could grab it. He ducked his head into the bucket and Cas settled on his knees in front of him.

“It’s okay,” Cas said and rubbed his back.

Dean shook his head and tried to turn away as he kept a fresh wave down by closing his throat.

“What?” Cas asked.

Dean retched in his throat and tried to turn away, rushing his words out. “Don’t want you to see me-”

Cas shook his head. “I’m staying right here,” he said, feeling the cold air on his naked body. “Just let it out.”

Dean hummed in frustration and then had to give in, bowing his head to throw up in the bucket.

Cas sensed his annoyance and just kept rubbing his back. “You’re okay, it’s me.”

Dean huffed a laugh as vomit and saliva dripped from his chin, thinking about when his brother was younger and he’d be the one telling him it was okay, to just let it out. Cas leaned forward and kissed his temple, inadvertently catching a whiff from the bucket and he closed his eyes, moving his head back quickly. Dean saw it.

“Sorry-” Dean managed to say, his voice echoing in the bucket.

“Don’t apologize,” Cas said and shook his head.

“This isn’t-” Dean started and then shook his head. “Not a-” He hummed quickly. “Comment on what we were doing.”

Cas smiled. “I didn’t think it was,” he said and ran his hand over Dean’s hair in an attempt to comfort him.

After a minute or so Dean nodded, pursing his lips together. “Think I’m done,” he said.

“Okay, give me the bucket,” Cas said, taking two tissues from the box at the side and held them out to Dean.

“No, I can-”

“Dean, let me do it, lie there-”

“I need to clean up and brush my teeth,” Dean argued as he tried to sit up.

“I’m going to do that and you have to wait half an hour to brush your teeth after vomiting or you’ll damage your teeth.”

Dean stared at him. “Sounds fake,” he said and Cas took the bucket, Dean reluctantly letting him as he took the offered tissues. Cas was surprised by the weight of it and tried not to look inside.

“Well, it isn’t,” Cas replied, pushing his shoulder so that he’d sit back against the headboard. “Lie here and relax.”

“Okay, pushy,” Dean said, wiping his face with the bunched up tissues, and let Cas walk away out of the room. He felt a sudden rush of fatigue.

Cas left the room, crossed into the bathroom and poured the bucket into the toilet bowl. He caught a glimpse of the orange liquid and scrunched his nose before he flushed. He hurried to the shower and turned it on, holding the bucket underneath. When he rinsed it out he went out into the kitchen to fill it up with hot soapy water and find a sponge. When he walked back into the room he stopped in the doorway looking at Dean. He was lying down, under the sheet, his eyes closed and his hand gripped in the pillow. He dipped to the floor and started cleaning up the floor. He went out, refilled the bucket and came back to find Dean had turned his back to the door and the sheet had slipped to his waist. Cas cleaned the floor again and then slowly stood up and walked to Dean, pulling the sheet up.

Dean stirred and turned around in the bed. “Hey,” he said, sounding as sleepy as his eyes looked. “Musta nodded off.” He chuckled gently.

“Hello,” Cas said, sitting down on the side of the bed, and put his left hand to Dean’s forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean said and shifted his head to look at Cas properly.

“Stop apologizing, Dean.”

“Hon, it’s kinda normal to say you’re sorry for barfing during sex.”

Cas smiled weakly. “It’s a good thing I’m not easily offended,” he said. “Because I thought we were having a good time.”

“Me too,” Dean replied.

“Do you think it was a one off or-?” He stopped and looked down, clearing his throat, wishing he hadn't spoken without thinking.

“Or what?” Dean asked, his eyes fixing on Cas.

“Nothing,” Cas said, shaking his head.

“Not nothing, obviously,” Dean said and Cas looked at him. “Spit it out.”

Cas inhaled. “I saw the bottle in the cabinet,” he said and Dean closed his eyes before he rolled onto his back. “I wasn’t snooping-” Cas added.

“Then what?” Dean asked before he sat up a little, looking at Cas as he leaned on his left elbow and brought his right arm across himself. “What, Cas?”

Cas sighed. “Alright, maybe I was a little-”

“A little? What gives you the right, Cas?” He looked at him. “I let you into my home-”

“I was worried, Dean! When I picked it up I wasn’t intentionally trying to snoop but when I turned up on the prearranged date and your heat hadn’t started, and I saw a new bottle-” Dean looked down a little guiltily. “I panicked. I thought you were suppressing again.”

Dean gestured with his right hand. “Why would I let you in, ask you to stay, if I was suppressing?”

Cas hesitated, feeling that sting. Why would he want Cas there out of heat? He was right.

Dean sensed he had said something wrong but however Cas took it he didn’t understand why he would ask Cas to stay to wait for the heat if there was no heat to wait for.

“I don’t know but after everything you said about- about Benny-” Dean looked away again, his jaw tightening. “And the effect that’s been having on you I wouldn’t blame you for it, for suppressing and for wanting an alpha around. Another chain on the door.”

There was a silence and Dean’s head moved barely an inch from right to left.

When he spoke his voice was different; it was less angry and more hurt, “You really think that’s what you are to me?” There was definitely still anger in his voice but that was more at himself than Cas. “You think we do this every heat just to- What, warn off other alphas? A bodyguard I can ride?”

Cas looked down in response to the bluntness in Dean’s words, which betrayed his hurt. “Dean-”

“Have we even been in the same room this entire time?” Dean felt his face flush red but he remembered all the times he’d let his mind wander, wondering if what they had was more than they were saying out loud, he recalled the way he’d reacted to what Mildred had said. And he hated himself a little. He looked over Cas’ face and his brow dipped, his anger melted as he asked himself if Cas could really not know his worth, even just to Dean, never mind in the world. “Cas, I live for this week with you.”

Cas’ eyes lifted to Dean’s in surprise, his face impassive. His mind was slightly blank but his heart was racing. It was as if Dean had looked into his heart and repeated his own feelings back to him.

“I count down every miserable day, drag myself through every damn one of them waiting to see you again. I- I didn’t one day decide to stop taking my suppressors and jump the nearest alpha. You are the one who floated it, I could’ve said no. D’you think I said yes just because it would make my doctor happy? I did it because I wanted to, because I wanted you.” He paused, staring at Cas, both of them wondering if Cas would jump in and say something but he didn’t so Dean continued. “I’ve wanted a lot in my life, Cas. Benny never to exist in ordinary civilization again, my brother to be happy and never touch drugs again, my mom back, another slice of pie- But I’ve never wanted anything like I wanted you, like I _want_ you.”

Cas started to panic; this was all too much, the words Dean was saying made his brain freeze; how could Dean be saying these things to him… about him?

Dean continued, not knowing about the anxiety bubbling up in Cas like the nausea had in Dean, “I don’t mean the intensity, I mean the _way_ -”

Cas couldn’t hear any more, the things Dean was saying weren’t true, they _couldn’t_ be. So he leaned forward and kissed Dean, lifting his right hand to Dean’s face. A second or two went by and Dean made to pull back.

“Cas, I’ve just thrown up and I’m tryna tell you-”

Cas kissed him again, trying to hold his head in place; Dean tasted like bile and morning breath but he couldn’t even acknowledge it while his heart was pounding in his chest. He needed Dean to stop talking, stop trying to talk, stop saying things, stop saying anything. Because if he let him carry on then everything would change and, while Cas knew he’d ordinarily struggle to deal with it, with everything going on at work he couldn’t let it happen. Samandriel popped into his head and his panic quickened. He didn’t think he was strong enough to deal with whatever Dean was going to say and how it would change what they had. Then there was the crippling fear he had that Dean was going to end all of this with the realization that they were on different pages, that it was just him.

“Cas-” Dean mumbled, lifting his hand to pull Cas’ hand from his head. “Stop-”

Cas quickly pulled back and looked down, pursing his lips together, letting his hand fall to the mattress beside Dean. “I apologize,” he said quietly.

There was a tense pause between them while Dean considered Cas’ reaction.

“S’okay,” he said softly, realizing that Cas was trying to stop him talking.

“I’m sorry for everything I said,” Cas said and looked up at Dean. “I didn’t mean it-” Cas looked into Dean’s eyes and wished he’d never brought up the tablets or the heats. He wished he could rewind and just ask him if there was anything that might cause him to throw up. He wished Dean would take those words back, those beautiful words that he didn’t deserve.

Dean kept Cas’ eye contact and it suddenly dawned on Dean that Cas didn’t want to hear the things Dean was saying and that he might have ruined everything. He didn’t want that. He wished he could rewind and not say any of those things. It sat like a lead weight in his stomach as he choked on the words, “Yeah, me neither.”

Cas nodded as he looked to the floor and stood up. “Maybe you should call the doctor,” Cas suggested as he picked up the bucket from the floor and left the room. He stopped just outside the door and inhaled with relief before continuing toward the bathroom.

“Yeah,” Dean said to himself and lifted his hands to his face as he leaned forward. “Maybe a shrink,” he muttered.

Cas stopped inside the bathroom, right on the threshold. The realization that Dean had taken those words back hit him. The words that Cas hadn’t expected to hear, or to want, or felt he deserved. He’d taken them back. He’d said Cas wasn’t just an alpha guard dog to him and then he’d taken it back. Just like Cas had wanted. So, why did it stir awkwardly in his gut? He thought about going back into Dean’s room, asking if he really meant them or not, those words, and he thought about just getting in the shower and staying there until it passed. Hit me or stay. Which would go bust? He tried to figure out if Dean would be the dealer in that analogy or not but then closed his eyes, hearing the words, “Yeah, me neither,” in his head before he stepped inside the room and closed the door.

Dean lay there after Cas had gone in the shower, thinking about everything (while ignoring the vomit smell). Everything from meeting Cas all of those years ago and the warmth of taking his hand in the alley before they walked away. It was like taking a wrong turn and then being guided back by a guardian angel. And then having to pretend it was nothing when it was everything.

He hadn’t moved when Cas walked back in, fresh from the shower with a towel around his waist. Dean stayed frozen on the spot as the heat still smoked from Cas’ skin.

However, he noticed Cas was holding a cell phone which he was typing into. He’d never seen Cas with a phone before.

“Possible side effects of Xanax O Plus,” Cas said, his head bowed.

Dean blinked for a few seconds. “What?” he said, slowly.

Cas looked at him as he stood near the foot of the bed. Cas had gone in the shower, forgot all about cleaning up, and tried not to think about everything. He’d absent-mindedly let his brain linger over Dean’s vomiting and it ended in him looking up the drug online. He wished he hadn't brought up the tablets but he had and he couldn't pretend he didn't know or that Dean didn't know that he knew. Not when Dean was waking up with headaches and throwing up.

“The bottle said O Plus,” Cas stated.

“Well yeah?”

“Well, the side effects for omega specific Xanax are different than alpha or generic.” He looked back to his phone, seemingly scanning it quickly before he decided to just say it all out loud and returned to the top of the list. “Headaches, blurry vision, nausea, vomiting, loss of appetite, diminished sex-drive, interrupted-” He stopped and his eyes darted to Dean’s.

“What?”

“Interrupted, irregular and-or absent heat cycles,” Cas finished.

“What?!” Dean said and sat up, moving to the edge of the bed as Cas moved to sit next to him.

“Look,” he said he gave Dean the phone.

Dean looked at the medical website open on his phone and it listed side effects to any searched for drug. Dean read them aloud, “Headaches, blurry vision, nausea, vomiting, loss of appetite, diminished sex-drive, interrupted irregular and-or absent heat cycles, difficulties conceiving, miscarriage, lactating difficulties- Ew. Increased- Sonofabitch,” he muttered. “Increased levels of anxiety to the state of paranoia- Oh, well, that’s helpful. Palpitations- This just gets better. Loss of balance, weakened motor control-” He looked up to Cas, eyebrows lifted. “I work with guns!” He looked back to the phone. “Persistent sense of danger-” At this Dean let his hand lower and exhaled, sharp and fast as if letting leftover air escape his lungs. “I’ve been in hell,” he said quietly.

When he looked to Cas he tried to smile sympathetically but it came across weak.

Then the one thing that really hurt Dean suddenly went from the hit of the realization that it was supposed to be helping him that were making him ill to sudden bubbling rage: he’d been deprived of his heat.

He bounded out of the bed and Cas followed him into the living room, watching him pick up his telephone receiver and angrily dial.

“Dean what are you-?”

“Calling my doctor,” Dean said, jaw tight.

“To say what?” Cas asked as he finished dialing and put the earpiece to his right ear.

“To rip her a new ass- hello?” he said as the phone was answered.

Cas reached out and took the receiver, hanging it up.

“Cas-” Dean said with a sigh as he turned.

“Shouting at her won’t help,” Cas said.

“It’ll make me feel better,” Dean, trying to remember where his cellphone was, not considering that he was still holding Cas’.

“Keep reading,” Cas said.

“Why?” Dean asked.

“Just keep reading,” Cas said and gestured to his phone.

Dean reluctantly looked back to the phone, quickly finding where he left off. “Persistent sense of being in danger, panic attacks, intolerance of alcohol, abnormally intense heat cycles, increased or heavier flow-” Dean cleared his throat embarrassed. “Lighter flow- Well this is helpful.” He gestured to the phone with his other hand.

“Keep going,” Cas urged.

“Increased libido, mood swings, feeling easily angered or upset.” He looked at Cas who raised his eyebrows as if Dean had got to the point he was trying to make. “Cas, I’m not overreacting. I went to her because I was having panic attacks and I couldn’t sleep and she gives me these? Tablets that make me feel worse, make me have more sleepless nights, when I do sleep I get nightmares, I wake up with headaches. Then there’s the barfing, the constant feeling I’m being watched-” Dean began inhaling hard. “Like he’s near, like he’s coming for me, it’s now-” He closed his eyes briefly and Cas wanted to reach out for him. “Insomnia is probably on here and-” He inhaled hard and quickly. “It probably stole-” He lifted his hand to his mouth. “Our heat-” He tried to breathe in and it hurt his chest. “I-” He tried again. “I can’t breathe.” He put his hand to his chest, Cas’ phone slipped from his grasp and to the floor.

He began to lean down to get it but Cas dipped too, putting his hands on Dean’s shoulders and brought him back up to looking at him.

“Your cell-”

“Come here,” Cas said and wrapped his arms around Dean.

“Cas, I don’t need-”

“Dean, just let me hold you,” Cas said and Dean sighed, it came out in a rasp as he still struggled to breathe. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s shoulders and cupped his head, not moving him.

Dean could feel his heart beating out his chest and the blood rushing his ears while he tried to find a breath that didn’t hurt or make it worse. He found himself letting his head fall forward, with the exhaustion of panic he’d guess later. Cas’ hand cradled the back of it to his neck, it was weird but Dean could have sworn Cas had been taller all the other times they’d done this. Well, not this; when they’d shared a heat he’d seemed taller, bigger, more- He wouldn’t say intimidating because he never intimidated Dean but more of a presence. Dean lifted his hands – which he was sure were shaking – and held Cas’ back. He turned his head in to Cas’ neck and exhaled, scared to breathe in so he held it. That’s when he heard something through his own blood. A heartbeat. But not his own. It was in his left ear, like a distant sound, gradually getting more obvious as the blood rushing began to fade. Dean felt better as he listened to it, he felt calmer, breathing was easier with that rhythm to concentrate on it.

“Are you okay?” Cas asked softly.

Dean shushed him gently and Cas didn’t try to speak again. Dean’s breathing had almost returned to normal and his hands on Cas’ back weren’t so desperate as firm. Cas didn’t care if Dean never wanted him to talk again as long as he was okay.

Dean listened for a few minutes longer before he could no longer distinguish his own heartbeat and breathing from Cas’. He felt like the comfort was gone and while he didn’t feel panicked anymore he felt a sense of loss, like the loss of the need of comfort. He idly wondered what kind of crazy person wanted to be in a state to need comfort.

“I don’t like drugs,” Dean said eventually, still listening to their rhythms for a moment longer before he leaned back and let his hands drop, making Cas do the same. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a holier than thou or my body’s a temple.” He sat on the couch with a sigh. “I just- Sam would say it’s because I don’t like admitting I need help or I’m not Batman or he’d say I don’t like not being in control. Truth is…” He paused, letting his tongue poke into his cheek. “He’s probably right.”

Cas stayed where he had been irrationally afraid that if he moved Dean would spook and stop talking.

“I’ve only ever taken three drugs in my life: painkillers after a hangover, my suppressors and Xanax. I took it during Benny’s trial but, I don’t know, it was different then. I just couldn’t stop shaking one night. I went down to the firing range in the BEA haunt in Chicago, my dad told me to shoot it out. So, I figured I’d do what he said, try it, blow off a little steam. It seemed better than Sam’s ‘talking about your feelings’ idea.”

The corner of Cas’ mouth twitched upwards, that was his Dean alright; talking didn’t help.

“The place was empty and I was so far in my own head that when one of the other hunters came in I didn't even notice. She let off a round, making me jumped and I turned the gun on her. I apologized like hell, she said it was okay, she actually apologized for startling me. She left, probably to get away from me, and my hand just started shaking. I’ve never seen it so bad, except with like medical stuff. It wouldn’t stop. I wasn’t even scared, I knew scared, that night you saved me _that_ was fear.”

Cas took his chance to sit on Dean’s left, he just directed his attention more to Cas and didn’t stop.

“This wasn’t fear. It was like something not completely different but something so damn different too. It was like tension, on a hunt when things turn into a chase and the other guy’s armed and you’re in cover and it’s quiet.” Dean’s eyes suddenly fell out of focus. “I’m listening for any clue as to what’s happening; are they running, are they creeping up on me. I can hear my breathing and it’s the loudest thing I’ve ever heard. I can hear my blood rushing in my ear, I feel like my body is jerking with the force. And I try to slow my breathing to listen better, waiting for that scrape of shoe or click of gun or cellphone buzz and hoping I don’t give away any of the same. It was like I was constantly trying to listen, gun in hand, for that slight sound, never dropping my guard because that’s when he’d hear me and it’d be game over.” As quickly as Dean’s concentration left the room it was back in the room. He glanced to Cas. “I went to Lisa, my doctor. She’d given me the suppressors so I barely had to mention court before she gave me the Xanax." He lifted his eyebrows. "Looking back now, she probably thought it was my case. But I didn’t want to be on them forever, I refused to let him do that to me because then he’d have still managed to attack me.” He sat back with an exhale. “But here I am again.

“Dean, it’s okay to need a little help sometimes. It doesn’t mean you’ll get dependent.”

“I think it’s in my blood,” Dean said. “My dad was an alcoholic, Sam was a junkie-”

“Then maybe it would be a good idea to talk to your doctor about your options,” Cas said.

“Yeah, maybe,” Dean conceded.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more help, Dean,” Cas said and put his right hand over Dean’s left an squeezed.

“Don’t be sorry,” Dean said. “You can’t solve all of my problems. You being here helps.” He paused. “You not taking it personally that I vomited when we were gonna have sex, that helps.”

Cas exhaled with a smile but it faded quickly as he pursed his lips. “I- I-” He swallowed. “I feel really privileged to have met you, Dean.”

Dean turned his head to look at Cas who looked at him too, their eyes connecting before Dean’s searched his face. He couldn’t think of what to say and so his mouth opened and the words, “Which time?” came out.

Cas slowly smiled and hung his head as he laughed before he looked back to Dean. “Every single one.”

Dean lifted his right hand and put it over Cas on his and squeezed it as he smiled too. “Thank you, Cas,” he said. He leaned in to kiss Cas but stopped when Cas’ smile fell and he leaned back out of reach. “What?”

“I think you can brush your teeth now,” Cas said.

“Oh, yeah!” Dean said and stood up, rounding the couch and walking into the bathroom. A few seconds later he emerged with a green toothbrush hanging from his mouth and a white line of paste froth around where it protruded as Cas was picking his cellphone up from the floor. “Every single one?” he mumbled.

“I don’t know,” Cas said, locking his phone and putting it on the coffee table. “We meet again a lot.” He dismissed it with a wave of his hand in the air.

Dean thought about it then conceded the point with a tilt of his head and raise of his eyebrows.

>><< 

Cas stood at the sink in the kitchen washing up their lunch dishes. The toilet flushed and Dean strode out of the bathroom. He looked to the kitchen as he stopped in front of the back of the couch.

“I coulda done those,” Dean said.

“It’s fine,” Cas said, shrugging.

Dean’s mind ran through random links of Cas having a dishwasher, his own utility room in his basement, stairs, a garden with a tree, a garage. Hell, he had somewhere to work and a guest room.

“Hey, when’d you move into your house?” he asked out of the blue.

Cas turned a little to his right, paused, then his forehead crinkled as he tried to think.

“Um,” he said. “It was a graduation present so I was-”

“Wait, you got a _house_ for finishing high school? From who?”

“My parents,” Cas said. “And it was for gradating university.”

“You went to university?” Dean asked as he leaned on the counter beside Cas.

“Yes, I’m an accountant, did you think I put ‘really good at math’ on my resume?” Dean chuckled and Cas watched him smile embarrassed.

“I didn’t really think about it,” Dean admitted. “What was university like for the virgin who was _really good at math_?”

Cas smiled an continued washing the dishes. “It was-” He sighed. “It was awful.”

“Really?” Dean asked.

Cas looked to the bowl as he put it on the rack. “You know, you could dry these while you’re standing there,” he said.

“I’m not dryin’ ‘em,” Dean scoffed. “The air can.” He shrugged.

Cas smiled a little, not sure what else he expected. “It was awkward and-” He paused and sighed. “No, _it_ wasn’t awkward, _I_ was awkward.”

Dean laughed. "Even back then?"

“Did you think I kept it up for nostalgia's sake?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

Dean tilted his head. “I thought it was your thing.” They both laughed. “Hey, you hooked me.”

Cas nodded as they laughed. “And I wasn’t even trying.”

“Which time?” Dean asked. “Every single one?” Cas tried not to smirk as he looked back to the sink. “How do you go through a fraternity and not lose your virginity?”

Cas looked to him as he took his hands out of the water and turned, Dean handing him a dishtowel to dry his hands on. “I didn’t join a fraternity. I lived at home, I was only on campus for classes.”

“Really?” Dean tilted his head as Cas nodded. “Why does everyone forget that’s a thing. I guess you didn’t want to be surrounded by dumb college kids.”

“No,” Cas said, shaking his head, “it made financial sense.”

Dean closed his eyes and nodded while he pointed at Cas. “Accountant, right.” He opened his eyes and kept nodding. “Forgot.”

“Did you join a fraternity?” Cas asked.

Dean scoffed and then paused. “Uh, no, no, I didn’t.” He turned away from Cas towards the couch.

“Dean?” Cas dumped the dish towel on the table and followed him. “Did I say something wrong?”

Dean sighed and turned to look at him. “I didn’t go to college, Cas.”

“Really?” Cas said, sounding surprised.

“Yeah, really,” Dean said, an exasperation to his voice.

“I just assumed that you needed a degree of some sort in law to do your job,” Cas explained.

“No, a bunch of exams, a clear-ish record and a gun license.” He shrugged. “Driver’s license doesn’t hurt but not necessary.”

“So, why did you react like that when I asked?”

Dean’s face fell. “I don’t know, people just tent to judge when they find out I don’t have some dumb degree.”

Cas looked amused. “Why?”

Dean shrugged. “I dunno, people are asshats?”

Cas chuckled then his face fell. “Am I an asshat?”

“What? No,” Dean said.

“Then why’d-?”

“Knee-jerk reaction I guess,” he said then chuckled before they stood looking at each other.

“You have a beautiful laugh,” Cas said and Dean’s breath stopped in mild shock.

Dean chuckled with embarrassment. “I, uh-” He lifted his hand to the back of his neck.

Cas stepped closer to him and paused while Dean looked over his face and neck. “I like some other noises you make too.”

The blood that had flushed Dean’s face trickled – no, _streamed, flooded_ – from his head to his other one. “What kind of-?”

Cas spun of him around and Dean’s hands automatically shot out to hold onto the back of the couch, his fingers sunk into the cushions as they gripped hard and his hips swung back with the bend. He closed his eyes as he felt hands on his hips then Cas’ right hand ran over his abdomen, nudging him to straighten up. When his back leaned against Cas’ chest the body heat quickly rose and Dean forgot the question.

“Do you really want to know?” Cas whispered in his ear.

Dean made a noise as he exhaled but he didn’t know what it was because heat poured from his abdomen down his legs at the whisper and he wasn’t even aware he’d made any noise at all.

“Dean-” Cas’ left hand moved to his sweatpants and pulled the string until it untied. “I have something I want to do.”

“Do it,” Dean said.

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“I’ll stop you, do it,” Dean insisted.

Dean’s head whipped back a little as Cas pushed on the middle of his back and his hands went out in front of him. His palms pressed into the cushions as his front hit the back of the couch.

His brain flashed back to when he was just seventeen and standing in front of Cas, buttoning his shirt for him, pulling his collar up, beginning to do his tie. Then Cas stumbling over the couch to get away from him. Well, he wasn’t doing that now, was he?

Now, Dean was aware Cas was pulling his sweatpants down, over the curve of his buttocks but he didn’t sense Cas kneeling in the process. He looked up as he let his hands run up Dean’s legs, then hook into the underwear band and slowly began to pull them down. Dean moved the band from the tip of his semi-hard dick as he was realizing that Cas couldn’t still be standing behind him. He still exhaled as he waited for Cas to push into him and, years down the line, fulfill a teenage fantasy. He felt hands on his hips and excitement rose in his chest but instead he gasped something intelligible when Cas took one slow, exaggerated lick up over his hole.

“Cas,” he breathed. “What-?”

He was cut off when Cas pressed his tongue against his entrance, followed with his lips and moved his tongue inside then pulled off, letting his lips trail a little. There was only a pause before he did it again, moving his hands to nudge Dean’s buttocks apart. Dean was grabbing the cushion in front of him, his eyes open and his top teeth sunk hard into his bottom lip. Cas pulled back once more and, with the force of doing it again he simultaneously pushed Dean’s penis against the back of the couch and his tongue against Dean’s hole. It hung on the tension for a second before, with a swirl, it dived in and Dean called out.

“Ca-” He groaned.

Cas kept it slow but hard. The legs of the couch scraped – hollow and short – and threatened to move away from them. After a few minutes Dean’s forehead was shimmering, his back damp, his knees weak and his mouth just as unable to finish any word he attempted. Cas let his left hand drop and gently cupped his balls. Dean stuttered to try and speak but he pushed back and made it impossible.

And then it stopped.

Cas stood up as the heat that filled Dean's entire body quickly started to disappear. Cas pushed his pants down quicker than he could form a question. He started to lift up from his bent over position but was shoved back down with a hand on his back. All that did was turn him on even more so that, when Cas pushed into him – hard and unhesitating – he moaned louder than he knew he was capable of and his legs actually gave way, his balance only kept by the couch. Cas grabbed his hip and thrust, just as hard and slowly as he’d licked and sucked him.

“Harder-” Dean breathed and moaned when Cas did just that.

But it wasn’t enough. The fantasy all those years ago in the mind of a horny, teenage virgin had magnified in his mind, helped by knowing the person behind him and knowing just how they could make each other feel. He’d be lying if he’d said he’d never masturbated while thinking about it over the years, adding details, expanding the scene, amplifying the pleasure. And now he wanted to see lights behind his eyes. So, he kept urging Cas on with whispered pleas and Cas never once ignored him or told him no. Even when the couch moved forward they followed it without a word – it hit the coffee table and stopped but the remote controls continued to shake.

Why?

Because Dean wasn’t the only one who’d thought about that moment in Cas’ living room in the intervening years. Cas had had dreams about what would have happened if he hadn’t scuttled to the end of the bed in the night, he couldn’t stop them as much as he tried. But then it had moved to that morning and what if Cas hadn’t backed away, if Dean had gripped onto him for support instead of the couch – just as he was doing now. It’d developed over the years to include the car ride to his house and all of those showers Dean had taken.

The night had always carried dark fear for Cas – he’d almost given in, hell he’d scented him, in his bed, lay on top of him, touched him. Dean had offered up – not just himself – but his virginity and the memory made Cas’ knees go weak. But it had all been too much, too dangerous, too primal.

And yet, throughout all of that he refused to acknowledge what he had done in the shower that morning, before going downstairs and making Dean breakfast before heading to work.

But _God_ that morning!

That morning had been less about not being able to control himself and more that he hadn’t wanted to. _That_ had made Cas’ toes curl on more than one occasion.

So when Dean called out for it to be harder Cas nodded, whispering, “Yes, baby, yes.”

Dean came with his eyes open but completely unable to see. It was all a wash of purple, brown, cream and neon blue. He’d look around later and wonder where they had come from but would never find an answer. He hadn’t been able to make his mouth articulate an actual word but a strained low, long groan came out instead. After he stopped he immediately closed his eyes, his body still rocking with Cas’ thrusts, feeling Cas knot tug, and he went limp against the couch like liquid, his elbows gave way and Cas had to pull him back at the hips.

“M’gonna c- Dean, I-” Cas slowly let his head hang back as his own eyes closed and he came, movement of his hips began to decrease in speed as he finished. He’d never heard Dean be so loud before and yet he’d simultaneously barely been able to talk properly at all. “Are-" He exhaled. "Are you okay?” Cas asked.

Dean tried to answer but his voice cracked and he closed his mouth, finding it too dry. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m-” He cleared his throat again. “Wow.” He exhaled, wondering whether he should say anything. “I was _really_ loud!” Cas smiled as he rubbed Dean’s hips then helped Dean straighten up. “That wasn’t just me, right? I sounded like a whore?”

“No!” Cas said. “You sounded-”

“Like a pay-per-view whore!” Dean interrupted and lifted his hands to his face. “Oh my God, I’ll never look at my neighbors again.”

“Dean-” He pulled Dean’s hands away.

“I have to move,” Dean said. “Help me pack.”

Cas laughed. “Right now?”

“Yeah, we’ll make a run for it in the middle of the night, like a scandal.” Cas exhaled. “If I’m lucky they’ll think I was murdered.”

Cas laughed and hugged Dean, using his right hand to attempt to turn his head to look at him.

Dean turned his head away. “No, I can’t look at you ever again.”

“Hey,” Cas said softly and kissed Dean’s neck. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“M’not,” Dean lied.

“Your neck is the same color as the underside of my desk.”

“Brown?” Dean said, his face tensing to confusion.

“Red,” Cas said.

Dean turned his head to look at Cas, his face contorting more. “The underside of your desk is red?”

“No, but you looked at me,” Cas said and kissed Dean.

Dean sighed and looked away, trying not to smile. “Shut up.”

“Dean, don’t you remember what I said?” He kissed his neck. “You don’t have to be embarrassed with me. I will do anything to make you feel like you don’t have to, just tell me what. Because it’s all I want to hear,” he slowly pushed forward and Dean gasped outwardly, “every move I make is to make you feel good.” He kissed Dean and smiled when Dean tilted his head to the side to let him. “I want to hear you make noise, I want to hear you say my name, struggle to breathe.” He moved his kisses up Dean’s neck. “I want to hear everything that comes out of your mouth because I want to make you feel-” He moved his hips back a fraction just to push Dean against the couch again and smiled when Dean moaned softly. “Good?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “It’s never felt as good as that.” Dean dry-swallowed. “And it always feels good. I mean, _really_ good.”

Cas chuckled. “Good,” Cas said. “Because you sound so good I could cum on it alone.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked.

Dean’s eyes closed tighter when Cas groaned in his ear. “Oh _God_ , yes.”

Dean turned to look at him and Cas smiled at him. Dean felt like there was something in his smile, something playful, as if this was a joke to him. Dean's own face fell and he turned back.

“Pull out,” he said flatly.

“What?” Cas asked, his own falling at Dean’s tone.

“Pull out, Cas!” Dean shouted.

“Dean, what is-?”

“Don’t do that, Cas,” Dean said, through clenched teeth. “Don’t just play up to me and just say what I wanna hear, Cas,” Dean said.

“I wasn’t,” Cas replied and Dean hummed with disbelief. “Dean, look at me.” Dean turned his head further to the left to look away and Cas used his right hand to forcefully turn Dean’s head to look at him but he didn’t need much persuasion as soon as he felt Cas’ hand under his jaw. “I’m not telling you what you want to hear.”

Dean used his hand to push Cas’ away and looked to the left again.

Cas looked down and wrapped his hands around the bottom of his knot, grunting with the sensitivity and bearing his teeth as it hurt to deprive his knot of blood. Dean gasped in surprise when Cas pulled out but he was even more so when, after quickly tucking himself into his pants, Cas spun him around, holding his shoulders. “I can’t believe that, after everything we’ve talked about-” He sighed. “What do I have to do to convince you that you turn me on?”

“What?” Dean asked, his eyebrows raising.

“Dean, I lost my virginity to you in my twenties because you were the only person in my entire life I ever truly wanted, I was literally knot-deep in you ten seconds ago despite the fact you're not in heat and the noises you make make it hard to breathe, Dean, because I can barely believe I’m the one that’s making you feel like that. And I do struggle to believe it and I know it’s illogical but I do. The idea that I could have the effect on _you_ that _you_ have on me. I mean, when you’re in the room, you’re the only person I see-”

“We’re always alone.”

“It wouldn’t matter if we weren’t.” Cas inhaled hard and let his hold on Dean go, glad that Dean had broken his stride because that was slowly angling away from ‘sex’ to ‘emotions’ and Cas knew that was dangerous territory, especially after the words Dean had recanted. “What do I have to do, Dean? Tell me and I’ll do it.” Dean looked down. “I’ll do it every single day if that’s what it takes.”

Dean cleared his throat and licked his lips before he said, “You could try sayin’ stuff like that.” He lifted his eyes to Cas’ who looked at him with confusion strong on his face. “Sorry Cas, I just uh-” He exhaled. “I don’t know, sometimes I just-” He looked down, suddenly aware that he was naked, and dipped to pull his underwear and pants up. “Look, I don’t know what it is, I know you’re attracted to me, I’m not blind. I _know_ sometimes I drive you crazy – I mean, the good crazy. But sometimes I just wanna hear it, Cas.”

“Really?” Cas said. “I thought you would have hated it, I would have thought it was too alpha for us.”

“Yeah, I did too but, I mean, when you kiss me so hard I expect blood to be drawn or when you put your hand on my knee or when you pause to look in my eyes just before you kiss me-”

“I do that?” Cas asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said with a nod. “Or in the morning when you seek me out, hug me and bury your face in my chest or run your hands everywhere you can reach. Or in the shower-” He looked to Cas. “I can’t get enough of the silent ways you tell me but, just sometimes, I just- I hate it but I-”

“You need to hear it,” Cas said.

“Yeah,” Dean said and his body relaxed, his attention still on Cas as he waited, with worry, to see how Cas would react.

Cas pursed his lips and put his hands on the side of Dean’s face. “Dean,” he paused. “I don’t think you realize-”

“No,” Dean said and pushed his hands away. “I don’t mean on the spot, how I make you feel things. I mean, if I look good, tell me; if I walk passed you and you like the look of my ass, spank it, if that’s what feels right.” Dean let his mind run away. “And maybe, just once, walk up behind me and whisper in my ear then walk away, leave me red in front of every… one…” He trailed away and glanced to Cas.

Cas’ head tilted. “Do you think about that?” he asked.

“About what?”

“About us being us around other people?”

Dean swallowed guiltily. “I- I just meant that you don’t have to make a big speech, just, I don’t know, tell me every now and then.”

“Okay,” Cas said, not missing the fact that Dean had completely sidestepped the question. “I will.”

“Right,” Dean said. “I’m gonna-” He gestured to the bathroom and ran off. He closed the door and exhaled before he went to the sink and pulled his pants down, thinking so loudly he almost wasn’t sure he was seeing right when there was no ejaculate anywhere. “Dammit, it must be all over the couch,” he said to himself so he pulled his pants up and slipped out of the bathroom, finding Cas sitting in the middle of the couch. Dean looked around Cas and couldn’t see anything. “Did you clean up?”

Cas turned to look at him. “Clean up what?”

Dean hesitated before he said, “Nothing.” He then disappeared back into the bathroom. He pulled his pans down, checking his underwear, checking on the outside of his underwear, inside his pants. Nothing but a little bit of precome and slick. He pulled them back up and stood at the sink frozen for a minute with a look of bewilderment on his face. He tried to think back to the list of side-effects but he couldn’t remember anything about this. Whatever this was.

>><< 

The evening had descended so gradually on Lawrence that only the more cautious drivers and nervous omegas appreciated how dark it had gotten. This number increased when drivers became aware that a local police car was crawling amongst them. Dean, who was stood on his balcony on his cell phone unconsciously watched but didn’t see when the car’s head lamps lit up a woman’s retreating figure as it pulled across the road, onto the wrong side, and stopped outside Dean’s apartment building. The woman, an omega, wearing a plum baby-doll dress, black leggings, _Doc Marten_ shoes and a brown shoulder bag which she clutched with one hand and tucked the right side of her navy blue bob haircut behind her ear as she turned. Seeing it was a police car she calmed somewhat but knew she’d soon walk too far away from them. She sighed, knowing that she had three weeks before her heat again didn’t dampen the nerves the neighborhood stirred in her. It was safer in comparison with her own neighborhood but, all the same, she’d heard that someone had been attacked a few nights ago. In their own home, as well. She kept reminding herself that it was an unsuccessful attempt as she continued walking along the sidewalk but she couldn’t help but wear those anti-alpha underpants her father had bought her, as stupid as they made her feel, especially when her sister mocked her.

“Yeah, I understand,” Dean said while, inside the apartment, Cas – who was sitting on the couch with his legs up, facing the window to the balcony – was reading _‘Slaughterhouse Five’_. He had his back against the arm of the chair and his head bowed as he turned the page.

 _“So, do you think you could jump in?”_ Ash asked Dean on the phone. _“It’s not my specialty, bud.”_

“Yeah, it’s not mine either,” Dean said. “I might have a number I could call, someone from who’s worked underage before.”

 _“I thought you’d worked a kiddo-case_ _before?”_

“Never been lead, always back-up.”

_“Well, either way, I’d appreciate you being on it with us, I know how you work, I know what I’m getting.”_

“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do,” Dean said. “But these heats are a law unto themselves.”

_“Welp, I’ll wait for a few days then might have to hit you up for those other hunters. If I don't hear from you I'll call you again when I can't wait.”_

“Yeah, talk to you then,” Dean said and hung up.

He turned and looked in the window at Cas just as both of the front doors of the police car opened. The passenger, carrying a black laptop bag, had ‘OSO’ on the back of his jacket and the driver had ‘A-Team’ on hers. The driver was substantially bigger – in both height and build – than the passenger which became glaringly obvious as she stepped onto the sidewalk and stood beside him just as Dean was dipping in the window and walking towards the coffee table.

“Do you mind if I put the TV on while you read?” Dean asked, reaching for the remote and sitting down at Cas’ feet.

“No,” Cas said as he looked up and saw Dean sitting down. “Sorry, I’ll move.” He began to move his feet but Dean gently caught them with both hands.

“It’s fine, we’ll share,” he said and turned to face Cas, when he lifted his own feet onto the couch Cas moved more into the back of the couch allowing Dean to trap his feet between Dean’s hip and the cushion while Dean tucked his own feet against Cas’ hip. Dean quickly decided on a channel, let the remote rest on his chest and lifted his right arm behind his head while Cas turned the page and let his hand fall to Dean’s left ankle and then, in one almost practiced movement, curled his hand to the right and slid his fingers, not just under Dean’s ankle, but into the bottom of his pants. His thumb stroked over the skin and start of hair on Dean’s leg and the action was as unconscious as breathing.

Dean turned his head to look at it and then up to Cas’ face, watching his eyes move from left to right. He thought about how Cas had reacted when he’d been trying to talk to him, to tell him how he felt, because he knew he’d been working up to something when Cas had cut him off. He’d thought that Cas didn’t want him to say anything, that he didn’t want anything to change but now, as Dean sat there, his eyes dropping to the movement again, he couldn’t make it fit into the situation. Each languid stoke of Cas’ thumb turned Dean’s mind over quicker and quicker; that wasn’t the action of someone who was just here for a heat, a heat that wasn’t here, but Cas was, and Dean didn’t want him to go.

He inhaled, wondering why he was still going over this.

He turned his head back to watch the TV. “That was Ash on the phone, you remember the guy that dropped off the laptop?” Cas hummed and nodded, lifted his hand from Dean’s ankle to turn the page and then put it back, sliding his hand back under the bottom of Dean’s pants, stroking his thumb on the same spot. “He was asking when I was going back to work.”

“What did you say?” Cas asked, without looking up.

“When my heat was finished,” Dean said and heard Cas chuckle. “When do you have to go back?”

“To work?” Dean hummed. “Monday. But I should leave here before, to catch up.”

“Catch up?”

“Yes, I have a meeting on Monday and I need to finish my presentation for it. I have twelve reports to do for Tuesday, six reports to read and sign off on by Wednesday, I've not been notified about the rest of the week. And then whatever has been put on my desk since I’ve been gone. Additionally it's my turn to get the team lunch for the week, which further depletes the time I'm working.”

“Wow,” Dean said and looked at him.

“It’s only since we took over this account and the other project started, hopefully it won’t be much longer.” His nose wrinkled in a displeased way and Dean smiled. “So I should leave on…” He paused, thinking about it. “Saturday night at the latest.”

Dean’s smile fell. “Saturday?” It was already Thursday.

Cas nodded, humming. “Now you know why I work when we’re at mine,” he said, with a smile.

“Yeah, you shoulda brought your laptop.”

“Well, lesson learned for next time,” Cas replied.

“D’you think this one not showing up will affect next time?”

“I really don’t know,” Cas said, his head bowed. “Your doctor would know better. But you could call me when it shows up, like before.”

Dean inhaled, silently and hard. “And what if I called you when I wasn’t on my heat?”

Cas lifted his hand to turn the page, replacing it on Dean’ ankle. “What for?” he asked as his thumb stroked Dean’s ankle again.

Dean exhaled, like a punch in the gut. What for? Why would Cas ever want to see Dean out of heat? He felt his well-ingrained self-loathing instincts telling him to laugh it off.

But that thumb kept stroking over his skin, the smell of steak lingered even though it was long after dinner time, the taste of the beer Cas had handed him still bubbled on his tongue and marks on his neck – from God knows what time – still felt gorgeously raw.

Surely he couldn’t be misreading this situation that badly, could he?

“To hang out,” Dean said. “Maybe grab dinner, see how it goes?” He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. It seemed to him – not having any experience to back this up this theory – that people who had seen each other naked should not be this nervous.

“How what goes?” Cas asked, looking to the right page.

“Us,” Dean said in reflex, without any time to consider it, which was probably for the best.

The thumb stopped and Dean’s heart jumped into his throat. Cas stopped reading, his eyes moved to the middle of the page, not registering the words there. Then they lifted to Dean’s eyes and saw him staring back, no smile. If he’d leaned closer to him he’d see he was barely breathing.

Cas lifted his head. “Us?”

“Yeah,” Dean said.

“As in-?”

Dean exhaled and looked back to the TV, settling his head on the cushion behind his head, his jaw tightening. “As in us, Cas. Me and you, us. If you don’t want to talk about it then just say so, don’t play dumb.” He felt stupid, hurt and disappointed.

Cas let the book lower. “I wasn’t playing dumb you just caught me by surprise.”

“Did I?” Dean asked, bitterly.

“Dean,” Cas closed the book with a pop. “You were the one who said-”

“I didn’t say anything,” Dean interrupted, looking at him. “You said you’d get me through heats.”

“And _you_ said friends with benefits,” Cas pointed out.

Dean’s expressions changed as he remembered saying it. “Well, _you_ agreed,” he shot back, petulantly. “And does this _really_ feel like we’re just friends to you?” he asked. “Or that we only have ‘benefits’ because even _I_ can’t deny things have changed and I’m the king of denial.

“I wouldn’t ever have said that we were just friends,” Cas replied.

“You wouldn’t?” Dean asked, his brow dipping.

“No,” Cas replied. “It’s always felt like we had a deeper bond than that, a bond way greater than benefits.”

“Why haven’t you said anything?” Dean asked, sitting up at the waist, ignoring the remote when it fell to the floor.

“Because I knew it was just me being unable to separate sex and emotions.” He tilted his head looking at Dean. “Right?”

Dean slowly smiled. “Don’t be a dumbass.” Cas’ eyes narrowed and the puzzlement spread on his face. “Charlie and Ash are my friends,” they heard the far away sound of a neighbor’s door being knocked hard but ignored it, “Kevin’s my friend, even Garth’s my friend. You’re-” He couldn’t think what came next so he exhaled, shaking his head slightly.

Cas pushed the book between his leg and the couch, took his hand from Dean’s leg and leaned forward. “What?” he asked eagerly. “What word completes that sentence because it’s been driving me crazy.”

Dean gestured to him. “You’ve been-?”

“Of course I have, Dean!” He reached out and took Dean’s hand. “Every time I have to leave you and I have to go back to work I have lain awake or stared at that honeybee poster and tried to figure out what it meant. What-” He sighed with the resignation that there was no going back. “What I felt… for you.”

Dean’s eyebrows lifted as a door in the hall closed. “Did you find an answer?”

Cas’ mouth opened but they both jumped when there was three thumps on the apartment door. They looked to the door and then each other.

“I’m not answering it,” Dean said, feeling panicked that he wouldn’t get an answer or another chance to get one. He nudged forward, tightening his hold on Cas’ hand, trying to keep them in this moment. “Did you find an answer, Cas?”

Cas opened his mouth again.

“Dean Winchester?” a woman’s deep voice boomed through the door and they looked again. “Lawrence Police Department.”

Dean and Cas looked back to each other and their faces would have looked alarm if they hadn’t both been in a state of brain freeze. Dean could hear ringing in his ears as he made to stand and they reluctantly let go. He stood and looked down at Cas who just looked up again, not sure he could feel his legs.

There was three more thumps.

“I’m coming!” Dean spat towards the door; there was no way they’d get that moment back and he wanted to move far away, where there were no damn doors for people to knock and constantly interrupt them. He closed his eyes and then walked quickly to the door while Cas looked forward, his head spinning, and he stood, dipping to pick up the remote and turn the TV to mute. He then put it on the table and turned to look as Dean opened the door.

Dean didn’t even think before he did so, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to think again. The officers on the other side looked to him and the male at the front – the smaller and less intimidating of the two – opened his mouth to introduce them but was prevented from doing so.

“Come in,” Dean muttered and stood back as if a million miles away. He stepped back and immediately looked at Cas who stared back, as if they were magnetically drawn to do so.

Cas looked to the officers when their line of sight was broken by them walking in between them. Cas noticed that the male had a mark on the left side of his neck and he recognized it for what it was: a soul-bond.

“Sir,” the officer nodded to Cas and stopped a few steps in, the female officer behind colliding with him while Dean shut the door.

“Sorry,” she mumbled to him, stepped back and cleared her throat.

“How can we help you?” Cas said, his eyes on Dean trying to convey that they could continue talking about this later and that whatever was about to happen, he was there for him. However, Dean wasn’t looking, he was looking down as he rubbed his left leg against the other at the ankle, trying to get rid of the sensation of a thumb stroking the skin.

“Mr Winchester?” the man asked Cas who shook his head and pointed to Dean. “Sir-”

Dean was staring at the floor, completely zoned out, pieces of their conversation replaying in his head.

The officers looked to each other awkwardly when Dean didn’t react.

“Dean?” Cas said and rounded the couch towards him, stopping beside him.

“Hm?” Dean asked and looked to him and then, remembering where he was, looked to the officers who were looking at him. “Sorry,” he said. “I zoned out there, I’m sorry.”

“Quite alright,” he said with a smile. “I just need you to confirm your identity, sir, before I can explain our presence here.”

“Uh, sure,” Dean said, again not thinking that these people could be anyone.

Cas put his hand out as Dean reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “Can you provide identification first?”

“Of course,” he said and the pair took theirs out together as Cas’ hand dropped from Dean’s chest. “Detectives Sinclair and Sunder,” he said, gesturing from himself to his partner, both showing their ID to Cas while Sinclair looked at Dean which Cas did too, noticing he wasn’t paying attention.

“Dean?” Cas said and gestured to their IDs. “You’d know better than I.”

“Right, yeah,” Dean said and looked before nodding rather quickly. “Yeah,” he said again as he took his license out of his pocket and thrust it out for them.

The man read it and then nodded. “Perfect,” he said and Dean put it away, unaware that Cas was watching him. “I’ll explain, sir-”

“Do you want a drink?” Dean interrupted.

“Uh…” Sinclair looked to his colleague, to Cas and then back to Dean. “Sure.”

“Have a seat,” Dean said, gesturing to the kitchen table as he went to the refrigerator.

Cas smiled as they moved off, the pair shared an awkward look. The way they stood, the female sat with her back to the cooker, the male faced the refrigerator putting his bag on the floor at his feet and Cas walked straight to Dean.

“Do you want me to-?”

“Um, yeah, okay,” Dean said and took the chair facing the male officer.

“Tea, coffee?” Cas helped.

“Scotch?” Dean added and all eyes went to him before the officers looked to Cas again.

“Water,” Cuthbert said.

“Scotch,” Dean repeated.

Cas poured Dean his small drink and put it down in front of him with a concerned glance.

“Thanks-” Dean stopped himself before he could use a term of endearment. He cradled the glass in his hand as Cas handed out bottles of water to the officers. Detective Sunder looked at Dean’s glass with longing as Cas took the empty chair.

“As I was saying, Mr Winchester, I’m Detective Sinclair, I’m an OSO or O2.”

“An omega squad officer,” Dean explained to Cas.

“Yes,” said Sinclair, “and my colleague is part of the A-team.”

“Alpla,” she explained, eyes across the table at Cas who slowly nodded.

“My colleague here is heading up the investigation concerning yourself. I’m given to understand that you are an FRA?” Dean nodded. “So, you understand why I’m here.” Dean nodded again, his eyes still on his glass. The officer turned to Cas. “Are you Mr Novak?”

“Yes,” Cas replied. “Do you need me to leave?”

“Not if My Winchester is comfortable.”

“He stays,” Dean said.

“Well are you aware of police procedures in the matters?”

Dean didn’t answer, he felt like he wasn’t in sync with the world. He could hear the real world just on the edge of his own, he was under water and everyone else was above the surface.

Cas had been agonizing over what he felt for Dean. Questions began popping into his head: When? What conclusion did he did he come to? Why hadn’t he said anything? How would that conversation have ended if these officers hadn’t interrupted? And then Dean realized they were there. But by then the officer had resorted to asking Cas that question.

“No,” Cas replied but Dean’s resurfacing meant that he rushed to elaborate.

“Crimes are put into two categories: random or opportune and targeted, referring to the victim’s identity. They’re then further subcategorized into three: hate, sexual and general. Each of these have their own squads for all three of the sexes. Team for hate, squad for sexual and enforcers for general.”

“Yes,” Sinclair said. “My colleague is team and I am O-squad.

“Short staffed at team?” Dean asked and tried to laugh but just exhaled through his nose.

“No,” Sunder said. “Short staffed at general.” Dean snorted and it made everyone uneasy. “I’m filling in.”

Cas closed his eyes for a moment. “I apologize but I’m confused. What are you treating this as?”

“We’re tackling this as two separate crimes, Mr Novak. There’s the opportune general crime of theft and brandishing an unlicensed firearm that my colleague, borrowed from AH, will investigate. And then the sexual advances, possibly stalking, that will be _my_ focus.”

“It _is_ licensed,” Dean said, standing up and walking around to the door, stopping in front of the box and opened it, finding his permit in there before rounding the table and showing it to the female officer.

She read it and then folded it back up. “This won’t change her charges much but I’ll take it for evidence.” She used her left hand to lift the lapel of her jacket away from her chest and made to slip it into her inside jacket.

Dean put his hand out, taking the paper in his fingers, making her stop and look up at him. “I’ll get you a copy,” Dean said and she released it.

“I’ll do it,” Cas offered, putting his hands out.

“No, I got it,” Dean replied and walked away, all three of them turning to watch him.

He went into his office, opened his laptop and turned the printer on, he clipped the cable into his laptop and waited for it to connect. Sam would tell Dean over and over that he could connect it wirelessly but he’d just tell Sam to connect himself wirelessly and ignore him until he went away. He lifted the lid of the printer and scanned it as the other three shared an awkward silence and awkward looks. Dean placed the license on the scanner and pressed the print button but nothing happened. He looked at the laptop and pressed the ‘scan and print’ button on the window. Again nothing happened.

“Come on,” Dean said and pressed it again. He pressed the button on the machine and nothing happened. “Come on!” Dean yelled at it while leaning down to it and the officers looked to each other, unsure how to act, when Cas turned his head. The printer started up and Dean exhaled as he straightened up then clicked his fingers impatiently. “Today!” When it came out Dean grabbed it and turned to leave the room but stopped at the doorway and turned again.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what they’d been talking about before the knocks at the apartment door. He wanted to be angry, go out there and demand why they’d interrupted but he suddenly felt drained; he’d forgotten about Amara and it felt like he’d never be free. He shook his head and stormed out of the office thrusting the photocopy forward the entire time, he stopped beside his chair and shook it in the air. She slowly took it from his and then he picked up the scotch bottle, sat down and refilled it.

“Dean,” Cas said.

“What?” Dean said and, as he looked up, he saw the officers exchange a look and looked between them as he put the bottle down.

Cas took it and put the lid on the bottle before putting it back as they all looked between them.

Dean sighed and then caught the two officers sharing a meaningful look, trying to convey meaning between them. “What?” he said and they looked to him, Cas looking between them then to Dean. “What’s happened?” He gestured between them with his right hand. “Don’t lie.”

Detective Sunder leaned back and Sinclair pursed his lips together before he looked at Dean. “Officers picked her up,” he looked to Cas, “using the description of the car you provided us with.”

Cas recalled that he’d given the responding officer the description of the car she’d driven to his house three months before. “And the gun?” Cas asked.

“In the glove compartment.”

Dean exhaled as he leaned back. “What is her story?”

“She said you pulled it unprovoked-”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Unp-?!”

“Dean,” Cas said and reached out to take his hand.

Dean immediately inhaled as if trying to hold the anger in. He lifted his other hand to his mouth, pinching his lips between his fingers. Cas nodded to the officer as Dean squeezed his hand, he felt his anxiety rising in his chest.

“She claims you pulled the weapon unprovoked, threatened her and she disarmed you. She said that she ran with the gun as a means of protecting herself.”

“Bullcrap!” Dean spat, letting his hand drop from his face and looked at them. “Is she being detained?”

“Yes,” Sinclair said with a nod.

“Charged?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” he repeated.

“With what?”

“Theft,” Sinclair replied and looked to his colleague. “Possession of a stolen firearm-” She inhaled. “She was picked up in Missouri so not only did she cross state lines with a stolen firearm, she’s an alpha-”

“She can’t open-carry,” Dean interrupted, “not without an MAPHO.” Dean turned to Cas and opened his mouth to explain further.

“Mental assessment for the protection of in-heat omegas,” Cas said with a nod and Dean stared at him. “I’m an alpha, I know these things.”

“Well, anyway,” Sunder interrupted. “She doesn’t have one for either state and she also resisted arrest.”

Dean looked across the table at Sinclair, aware that Cas was still holding his hand. “Your turn.”

Sinclair hesitated. “Well, OS charges might be UA,” he nodded and looked at Dean.

Dean just stared before he realized he wasn’t saying any more. “UA?” he repeated.

“Unwanted advances,” Sinclair explained.

It was a charge that could only be brought against an alpha although there was a focus group gathering support that wanted it available to all of the biological sexes.

“I _know_ what it means!” Dean yelled. “First, you guys don’t know the gun is licensed despite me telling the last guys that, showing them my permit. And now you’re only bringing charges against her that don’t even apply!”

“I don’t-” he started.

“UA can only be brought against alphas to omegas in heat,” he said, knowing that there was a focus group for that too, stabbing the tabletop with his finger. “I’m not!”

“I’m sorry-”

“You’re sorry?” Dean asked and pushed his chair back to stand up, picking up his glass and downed it as he turned away from the table. He slammed the glass down and began to fill it again.

“Dean, please-” Cas began.

“My Winchester,” Sinclair said. “I apologize, we’ll get this straightened out.”

Dean half-filled his glass and put the bottle down. “Will you?” he said bitterly and picked up his glass. “When I first met that-” He snarled. “That gasric!” Cas closed his eyes.

“Hey!” Detective Sunder growled in anger.

Cas opened his eyes then put his hand out to defend Dean and Sinclair looked between them. “He didn’t-” Cas said.

“I’m sorry!” Dean exclaimed and then hung his head. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. He turned and his face was reddening, he looked from Cas to her partner then down. Dean then looked to Cas who didn’t look offended by the word – a derogatory term for an alpha, the term implying they were mere animals – he just looked worried. “I really am,” Dean said and looked at his glass. “But have you ever been backed against a wall in the street with three alphas ignoring every word out of your mouth, even laughing at your pleas?” She didn’t answer as she looked back up to him and Cas glanced to Sinclair as he shifted uncomfortably. “What about being backed against a table while someone touches you,” his face showed disgust, “saying ‘no’ over and over and they only answer you get is that you should do as you’re told?” She looked down, ashamed that time.

Cas felt anger bubble over faster than he could catch it. “In my damn bedroom,” he spat and the officers looked to him.

“She screwed up our bond,” Dean continued, still holding his glass halfway to his face, “she screwed up my last heat and she tried to come back while he was at work.” Cas shook his head, angrily. “The only reason I’m not in heat right now – like she probably calculated – is because of her.” Dean took a drink, his voice tremulous when he spoke again, “My best friend from- from years back went to prison for raping a homeless guy he passed in the street when I didn’t turn up to meet him. He’s out now and most likely blames me. And you’re telling me UA?” Sinclair looked down briefly. “I’m on Xanax for anxiety-” His voice wavered too much and broke off as his hands began to shake.

Cas stood and took the glass just as it began to slip from Dean’s hand.

“I need air,” Dean said and practically ran as he pushed passed Cas and went out onto the balcony in the pouring rain.

Cas put the glass down on the counter with a sigh and looked at the officers. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Sunder said. “He’s terrified and I can’t blame him. You know, legally, I can’t even show up to an omega’s house alone on the job.”

“Omega officers aren’t allowed to show up to an alpha’s house alone,” Sinclair pointed out.

“For the officer’s safety, not the civilian,” Sunder corrected. “Hell, I’ve seen some of the worst alphas, if I let myself think about it I’d be scared of myself.”

Cas raised his eyebrows; he couldn’t argue with that.

“We should go,” Sinclair said and stood up. He lifted his bag onto the table as his colleague also stood up and he took leaflets out of a front pocket. “We’ll be in touch with a court date, will you be testifying, sir?” he asked Cas.

“I wasn’t there,” Cas said. “I arrived to see Dean pointing a gun at her. Can I still be of help?”

“Yessir,” Sunder said. “Did you happen to see the theft?” Cas nodded. “Then you’d be of great help.”

“Then of course I will testify,” Cas said.

“It might not come to that,” Detective Sinclair added.

“One question,” Cas said. “The woman, the accused… She’s my boss’ sister.” The officers shared a look. “Is there anything I can’t do?”

“I’d advise you not to discuss the case with your boss and avoid her completely.”

“Gladly,” Cas said.

Sunder couldn’t help herself. “Really, in your _bedroom_?”

Cas nodded curtly. “While I was downstairs,” he added with a set jaw, “before we’d scented.”

“What a bitch,” she said and then opened her mouth as Sinclair looked to her. “Sorry, I-”

“It’s alright,” Cas said and shrugged. “She’s a bitch.” He gestured behind him. “I need to make sure that he’s okay.”

“I’ll leave these,” Sinclair said, and put the leaflets on the table. “Mr Novak?” Cas looked at him purse his lips again. “She posted bail.”

Cas sighed angrily. “You _have_ to be joking!”

“‘Fraid not,” Sunder said and they headed to the door, nodding to him as they left through it.

Cas bolted it, shaking his head furiously. “She posted bail and he’s walking around,” he muttered about Amara and Benny then looked to the window as he headed for it, he could see Dean leaning on the wall and his head bowed forward while his back heaved.

“They’re out and he’s having a panic attack in the rain,” Cas said to himself. He moved to the window and dipped out to shout into the rain, “They’re gone, please come inside!”

Dean didn’t hesitate and when he moved towards him Cas dipped back inside. Dean dipped in the window, dripping rain onto the window ledge and floor. But his legs gave way as he crawled all the way back in and he stumbled forward prompting Cas to put his hands out to catch him. He felt the strong hands clasp his upper arms and he couldn’t help it, he collapsed heavily against Cas who had to lower him to sitting in the opposite corner, kneeling in front of him. He could hear Dean wheezing and he lifted his right hand to push Dean’s soaking wet hair away from his forehead.

“Dean, you don’t have to speak, just- Can you take any more tablets today?” Dean nodded but Cas’ eyes narrowed. “Dean,” he warned and Dean paused before he shook his head.

Cas didn’t know what to do; he was clearly having a panic attack and Dean had taken all the doses he could that day. Cas couldn’t think of a way to calm him down so he rushed into the bathroom and pulled the cabinet door open, searching in a panic of his own by picking up the various pill bottles; heat suppressors (full), zinc (large bottle, almost empty), aspirin (half empty), eye drops, laxatives (opened but nearly full), sleeping tablets (opened, three-quarters full). There was also two packs of _Tylenol Period Plus._ He closed the cabinet door and stared at himself, the front of his hair wet and his face pale.

Then he heard Dean wheezing his name and he turned his head to the doorway. He grabbed a towel from the rail by the shower and then a smaller one from the rail by the sink and ran out, turning left to see Dean still sitting on his buttocks in the corner. He was leaning forward, his palms flat on the floor and his head lowered while he back heaved with every deep, desperate inhale he tried to take. Cas dropped down to his knees on Dean’s left, letting the towels sit on the floor beside him.

“It’s okay,” he repeated over and over while he determined which was the biggest and kneeled closer to Dean so he could drape the bigger towel over Dean’s shoulders. He leaned to his left, over Dean, to pick up the other towel and froze.

Dean bumped his head against Cas and as Cas looked down Dean lifted his right hand, putting it on Cas’ side. Once he had a firm grip he lifted the other and held Cas’ other side. He was shaking, wheezing and dripping wet and – it hit Cas – he was literally leaning on Cas right then. Physically and emotionally. He slowly leaned down on his heels and as he did Dean flinched then started to move away.

Cas put his left hand on Dean’s shoulder to stop him. “No, no, no,” he said and settled next to him. “It’s okay, stay there.” He hugged Dean to him with his left hand and used the right to slowly rub Dean’s hair dry with the other towel. “S’okay,” Cas said. “We’re fine here.”

Cas continued with this process until Dean’s hair was dry, his wheezing become less severe and his hands steadying. Cas finally dropped the towel and wrapped both arms around him. Every few minutes he whispered assurances, his fingers running through Dean’s hair.

The darkness in the room was only impeded by the light from the kitchen but otherwise the apartment was dark and quiet, the only sounds were the rain outside and a siren in the distance. Cas’ legs started to go to sleep and Cas wondered if Dean could move yet.

“Dean?” Cas asked and the hum he receiver in reply hit him hard in the gut; it was sad and practically a whimper. “Do you want to go to bed?” He got no answer and it struck him that the hum had been sleepy too.

He looked down, trying to pull back enough to see and, squinting to see in the dark, he felt almost certain that – yes, Dean had fallen asleep or passed out. Cas knew there was only one thing he could do now so he touched his left hand to Dean’s head, making sure it was against his chest. “Baby, you are _not_ going to like what I’m about to do, but let it go this once.” He tucked the towel in between them at Dean’s right side and then moved back enough to hook his left arm under both of Dean’s legs. He paused, waiting for Dean to suddenly snap at him, to push him off and storm away to the bedroom. However, he did not. Cas wrapped his right arm around his back and lifted him up. He stopped, padding his feet to steady himself and make sure Dean was sitting securely and then lifted him as he stood up, one foot at a time. He was still convinced that Dean would suddenly squirm and jump out of his arms like a cat who’s figured out what is happening. Again, he didn’t so Cas turned and walked into the bedroom.

Inside he lowered him to the bed gently, pulling the sheet from under him before he relinquished all of his weight. He actually stopped, still bent over Dean, when he didn’t feel Dean let him go. He just looked to Dean’s face, his eyes were closed and it was barely a second before Cas felt Dean’s hand slide from his side. Cas left the room again, checked the front door was locked, turned the kitchen light out, the night sky became the only light in the room by which Cas lifted the towel from the corner and put it back in the bathroom where he got ready for bed. He closed the window to the balcony and then returned to the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

He barely looked at Dean’s face before he sat down next to him, he lifted Dean up from the mattress just enough to slide the towel that had been around his shoulders out. Dean was like a ragdoll in his arms as he then stripped Dean out of his wet clothes and then used the towel to wipe his damp skin. When he got to Dean’s neck he found Dean looking over his face and he froze.

“I- I thought you were asleep,” Cas whispered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to wake you, I-”

He stopped when Dean slowly sat up, looked at Cas then turned his back. And stayed like that and Cas’ eyes narrowed. It didn’t feel like Dean was turning away from Cas because he was too close and twisted. Cas’ eyes relaxed as he realized what Dean doing. He lifted the towel and began to dry his back, slowly and nervously at first, waiting for Dean to shirk him off and ask what the hell he was doing. But he didn’t. He even tilted his head to the left and right to let Cas dry the sides of his neck. When he’d finished he stood up, picked up Dean’s clothes and put them and the towel in the basket in the corner of the room. As he did he watched Dean turn in the bed, lie down, facing the window and then became still.

He stood and silently stripped himself to his underwear and tentatively slipped in behind him. He faced his back and put his left hand on Dean’s hip, still so scared that he only let the weight of his hand settle gradually. When Dean didn’t protest or even shift he lifted his hand to pull the sheets up to their chests – thinking Dean must be cold – then slipped his right arm under his neck via the space between his shoulder, neck and pillow.

Dean tried to stop it but his whole body convulsed once. Anyone else might have misconstrued it as a laugh but Cas knew better. As Cas tucked his left arm up to pull the sheets higher Dean suddenly burst out crying, no, sobbing. He hadn’t done that since he’d visited Aaron in hospital. He’d felt so many emotions as he’d left that guy’s room – he’d felt guilty, sad, happy (that it hadn’t been Sam) and he hated himself for it but that could have been him – like his entire world was a lie, disgust (in the situation and that his father was right about Benny). But above all else he’d felt weak. He wanted nothing more than to call his dad, tell him what had happened and what he’d have to deal with now. He just wanted his dad to tell him everything would be okay, he’d be there, he’d fix it; that it wasn’t his fault, that he was a strong kid but he didn’t have to do this alone. But he hadn’t called his father instead he’d faced it alone. He’d never had anyone look after him when he was upset – hell, he’d never been allowed to be upset before, he’d always been told to stop whining, to stow his crap and be a man.

Except Cas wasn’t telling him _any_ of that.

Cas was whispering, “It’s okay, I’m here,” over and over. Dean realized he must look so stupid so he tried to stop it, inhaling hard and holding it. “Baby, you’re allowing to be scared-” But then it clicked into place in Cas’ brain that that wasn’t what Dean was fighting against, it was showing his feelings outwardly that was becoming a problem. “You’re allowed to cry.”

Dean suddenly let out his sob and moved on the bed, Cas loosened his hold, expecting Dean to be running away from him, but instead Dean turned around and hugged Cas’ chest, burying his face. “Can’t stop,” he explained, his voice strained and muffled. He was so far out of his comfort zone that he was half-convinced he should go out there and finish that bottle of whiskey.

“Dean, you don’t have to stop,” Cas said and repeated it over and over, shushing him gently in between.

It didn’t take long for Dean to stop crying; it was almost as quickly as it had started and yet, somehow, still gradually. He didn’t say anything or move and so Cas assumed he had fallen asleep and felt able to allow himself to do the same. However, Dean wasn’t asleep, he was, in a way, catatonic as he lay against Cas’ chest.

Whether it had started intentionally or not, Dean found himself listening to Cas’ slow breathing; he liked the rhythm of it, it was soothing, it reminded him of the rumble of the Impala’s engine when they were kids and would sleep as their dad drove. Dean had always been a fast learner but the one thing that had taken him (and Sam) a while to get used to was sleeping in silence. Those first few nights at Bobby’s after John died he and Sam had lain awake, unable to even relax, as if they could feel that the air was dense, well, it _had_ to be. Silence could only mean something was going to happen, something was wrong. Dean would remember Sam passing out on the sofa the third day when Bobby was sawing something in the yard but Sam and Bobby would tell you it was actually Dean. At dinner that night Bobby had asked if the beds were comfortable because, if not, he could make them different ones. They’d mutter that they were fine but couldn’t fool him, then or that night when Bobby knocked their bedroom door. They played dead, just like they’d learned to do when John came back drunk. He sat on Sam’s bed, looking between them and asked if they’d rather leave, go to the state.

Dean and Sam had sat up and looked at them, while Sam inquired why Dean was silent and calculating.

_Bobby opened his mouth. “I just-”_

_“He doesn’t want us,” Dean said and looked away._

_“I didn’t say-”_

_“You don’t have to, our own dad didn’t want us,” Dean said._

_“Hey!” Bobby had snapped and they both looked at him, sharp and ready – just like with John. “Did your daddy ever tell you that interrupting people was rude?” Dean just looked away. “You two don’t seem like you wanna be here, that’s all.”_

_Sam softened. “It’s not that, Bobby, we appreciate it. I appreciate you taking me in- And for letting Dean stay too.”_

_“Well, I wouldn’t expect you two to split up,” Bobby said and Dean almost looked at him._

_“It’s just different,” Sam said._

_“How?”_

_“I don’t know,” Sam said. “It’s tense, like something’s gonna happen.”_

_“Like what?” Bobby said. “Boys, your dad’s gone, it’s not tension, it’s grief. It’s knowing he’d gone and he’s not gonna walk back in the door.”_

_“Good,” Dean spat._

_Bobby narrowed his eyes. “What’d you say?”_

_Dean looked at him. “I said good,” Dean said. “He was an ass-”_

_Bobby pointed to him. “Now you wait-”_

_“Don’t interrupt!” Dean yelled._

_There was silence._

_Bobby leaned forward to Dean. “It’s not grief, is it?” he asked in a low tone._

_“No,” Sam said._

_“It’s fear,” Dean said. “What ‘our daddy’ conditioned us to live on, what he thrived on.”_

_“He hit you?”_

_Dean scoffed. “And then some,” he said and then turned back to Bobby. “I’m done taking it, Bobby, we are tense and scared. We’re waiting.”_

_“For what?” Bobby asked._

_“For you-” Sam started and then looked down._

_“You touch Sam and I’ll kill you,” Dean said and then looked to Bobby. “I told Dad that the day I turned eighteen and now I’m telling you.”_

_“Believe me, son, you don’t have to tell me,” Bobby said and leaned back, looking between Sam and Dean. “And if I’d known I woulda taken you away a long time ago.” He stood up and left the room, leaving Dean and Sam to look at each other._

_Bobby had never touched them, barely raised his voice and when the cops had dropped off John’s effects, holding them out to Dean, he’d urged him on with a nod, the only reason Dean took them. Dean had rolled the car keys in his hand while Sam took the FRA badge in his and over the coming months Bobby had somehow helped the boys accept their past and made them feel like they could move on from it._

_The boys got used to sleeping in silence, they got used to not being scared of the man that was looking after them, they got used to not worrying about where their next meal was coming from, Sam got used to staying at his school and making friends while Dean went to community college and got used to trusting people, to a point._

_Bobby, who had been too scared to have his own kids, got used to having adopted two boys who had the same upbringing that he had, he got used to hearing their voices, footsteps, laughter, even slamming doors and getting mud everywhere._

_The brothers never really stopped getting up at the crack of dawn and Bobby didn’t say anything when, sometimes, he’d wake up to their beds empty and the brothers asleep in Dean’s car. Dean had never thought he’d get used to silence in the night, silences that had felt pregnant with things to come. But he had._

And now he was lying there, held against Cas’ chest, he had absolutely zero doubt that he could get used to sleeping next to and wrapped around this man. He knew with absolute certainty that he could get used to waking up to him, having breakfast with him, going off on a hunt or coming back from one and spending all day with him. Hell, even pushing his ass out the door to work every morning and dragging it to the floor when he got back. It didn’t matter whose bed, door or floor it was. He thought about what it’d be like to stop bottling things up, letting him see Dean as he really was, not denying he could read him like a book and allowing him to read every page. He even considered he’d actively want that one day, that he’d tell Cas things about himself, not to stop them arguing or him learning, but because it occurred to him to do so. And because he knew that Cas wanted to know. He felt hungry thinking about all the things that he’d yet to discover about Cas, all of the stories, dreams, fears, quirks. He wondered if Cas felt hungry when it came to him too. He pulled Cas in tight and hoped he did.

Cas stirred half asleep, and Dean loosened his grip. “S’okay,” Cas muttered, his eyes closed. “Dean, it’s okay.” When his left hand ran over the side of Dean’s head Dean looked up at him. “Just me and you,” he said softly and kissed what he thought was the top of Dean’s head but was, in fact, his forehead. “Not going anywhere without you.” He ducked his head and tightened his hold on Dean. “D’you need the bathroom?”

“No,” Dean replied.

“Then it’s okay,” Cas said. “We’re not moving.”

Dean dipped his head and closed his eyes. “Go back to sleep, C-” He smiled. “Honey. I’m not going anywhere without you either.”

“M’kay, baby,” Cas mumbled. “You- You go… Back to…” His words drifted off as he fell asleep and Dean’s smile fell a little as sudden dizziness took hold and he held tighter, waiting for it to stop before he fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friction, frustration, angst, a little fluff and a lot of smut. The usual. Right?

Dean had had a restless night, tossing and turning while his forehead became soaked in perspiration.

At first he saw himself lying in a small, single bed in the corner of a room with a window just as small behind his head. He was asleep or unconscious, he didn’t know which, and Cas sat down on the bed beside him, feeling his brow. He then went into the next room, stood on a chair to find a bottle and looked at it. Then he whipped his head behind him to the left. Dean felt his heart beat faster as Benny stood in the doorway and smirked at Cas.

Then he saw himself wake up with panicked breathing, sat up and leaned on his left hand. He was aware that a noise had woken him up, a clattering or a growl.

“Cas?” he said and stood up, waking his way on unsure legs into the other room. He could see that the door ahead was wide open, as he got to the open threshold of the room he’d been asleep in he called for Cas again. He received no answer and he knew why when he stopped a step into the next room and looked to the floor on the right, by the wall. Cas’ lifeless body was lying on a broken chair covered in blood. His head was tilted back and was looking at Dean with open, dead eyes.

“If you’d have done what you were told,” a voice said and Dean looked to the doorway where Amara stood, looking at him with a smirk barely concealed on her lips, “he wouldn’t have been hurt at all.”

Amara took two slow steps towards Dean as he shuffled on his feet. She was dressed the exact same way she had been when she’d come to his apartment door. Dean had been too scared and angry to notice the first time: a dull green jumpsuit with a brown jacket and heels.

“Instead…” She gestured her arms wide and kept walking forward slowly as Dean stepped back. “Alphas take whichever omegas they want, they always receive which they want. You can’t change that. I can’t change that.” She smiled at the side of her mouth. “No one can.”

Her eyes changed as she took an inhale and he watched her shoulders fall with it.

“I always get what I want.” She paused, letting her eyes run all over him, he felt himself shudder from his core; he didn’t like that look, it was like being touched when you were helpless to stop it. It was a violation. “Who I want.” Her eyes met his again and he could see her hringgewindla bob as she swallowed.

Dean inhaled quickly; there was only one thing to do.

So he turned and ran towards the balcony through the open doors before he hopped over it, landing with a yelp on his knees and, as everyone in the street turned to look, he immediately took off in the opposite direction to which he’d landed.

Amara appeared at the window and stopped, turning her head to her right before looking to her left.

Dean felt small as he ran through the crowds, pushing people out of the way and bouncing off of a wall as he turned right in the narrow street. He felt like his stride wasn’t as long as it had been and that his legs were moving a lot more than usual just to get ahead. He kept looking over his shoulder.

Behind him Amara had started running, she was pushing people out of the way with a lot more force than Dean had. She turned right too just as Dean was taking the next left into a darker street. Dean felt himself slow as he saw a heavy wheeled cart ahead, it was taking up most of the street and Dean knew, with how weak he felt and how his limbs seemed to be struggling to keep up, that he’d never be able to vault it and so he hit the floor and slid under it. He slid on his front as he used his arms to drag himself to a stop, bounded up and kept going just as Amara came around the corner and ran after him, only she jumped clear over the cart.

Dean kept running, taking the next left as Amara’s feet hit the ground and she kept after him, without so much as a faltered step. Taking the next left and running down some stairs Dean saw a woman who had just finished emptying a bucket full of something he didn’t want to know about look up at the sky as if contemplating the day. He watched her with sharp eyes as he ran into her open doorway. His heart beat in his chest as Amara appeared at the top of the stairs and slowed, unsure of where to go.

Dean found himself in a series of rooms filled with steam and was faced with half-naked and sweaty men. It was stuffy and he could hardly see but he knew he just had to keep moving. He turned around and around as he went into the next room, finding more men and more sweat. He eventually found his way outside, the cold air hitting him and his airways opened up again. He paused to look before he started off to his right.

He moved through the throngs of people, some with baskets and produce, some talking, and some rushing off to be somewhere. He kept turning around and around as the smell of the chickens and horse dung overwhelmed his senses, the sounds of the animals and people dulled to just ringing in his ears as he tried to think of a way out. The skies were a blue that was smack in the middle of a clear day and clouds forming while Dean looked around, trying to keep moving. But he didn’t look up as the woman at the door of the baths had and he should have because Amara came running from the city walls and jumped down in amongst the crowd.

The sound of her colliding with a couple of people out shopping made Dean turn in a panic, stare wide-eyed and watch as Amara bared her teeth, a growl beginning to rumble in her throat. At seeing Dean’s fear she smiled too, her teeth making her seem like a shark who was gaining on its next meal.

Dean turned and ran as fast as he could but Amara did the same. The sounds of shock and angry discontent rose up as the pair raced through the street, pushing people out of the way, knocking baskets over, scaring children and animals. Dean vaulted a stall and kept running, hoping that he could just keep going, hoping that he wouldn’t prove to be as weak as he felt. When he saw his path blocked by people talking he skipped around a pole, banging into one of the men as a result of not being able to slow down enough in time and he called out in protest but Dean kept going. Amara however pushed through the two men, not caring what happened to them as long as she got through them and kept Dean in her sights.

Dean got to the end of the market area and jumped over a wall towards a row of houses, as soon as his first foot left the ground he realized his mistake, where he was going to land were baskets upon baskets of fresh fruit and vegetables on a set of stairs going down to the left. Ahead, a couple talking on a balcony slowly turned, no one reacting as quickly as Dean had jumped. He landed hard on his feet but fell forward rolling onto his front and then began tumbling down the stairs, knocking the baskets of fruit and vegetables with him. Everyone around him exclaimed in surprise or dismay as they tried to save the food, jeering at Dean for causing trouble. He cried out as oranges, onions, tomatoes and watermelons began pouring down the steps after him, landing in a pool of his blood.

He stopped on his front halfway down the steps and rolled onto his back feeling his lower abdomen burning in pain. He leaned up, his left hand on his stomach and lifted it to see hay stuck to the dark blood transferring there. He found himself shaking just looking at it, it wasn’t like all of the other times he’d bled on hunts, it was dark and thick. He didn’t have time to linger on it through because, sensing movement, he turned his head to the left to see Amara walking briskly down the middle of the commotion that Dean’s leap and subsequent fall had caused. Her eyes were fixed on him.

He panicked, shaking as he scuttled to his feet and scrambled to the side of the stairs, rolling to drop over the edge, dropping around eight feet to his hands and knees. He clutched his abdomen as he pushed to stand up and moved to his right, Amara just turning to following him while the other people in the street lamented their lost fruits and vegetables.

Dean, in his haste to keep going, felt his legs take steps faster than he could be sure of them. He fell into the wooden side of a building and blood from his hand smeared there before he took off to his left. He just had to keep moving. He wasn’t aware he had been surrounded by the smell of oranges until he could no longer smell it.

Amara dropped down to her feet and stared ahead at the blood stain on the wood, smiling to herself. Dean knew somehow that she was convinced that Dean was just playing hard to get and this trail he was leaving behind him had to be proof of it.

He stumbled down a dark alleyway and stopped, he was dirty and covered in sweat. He could feel the warmth of fresh blood on his left hand and he swallowed hard before he unconsciously nodded to himself and kept moving. He came to the top of a staircase and fell against his right arm on the brickwork. His right hand went out to grab the handrail and he paused to look down while he clutched his side. The steps were split into three levels and at each increment he almost fell over his feet, sure that at any second his legs would give way and he’d tumble down them completely.

However, he kept his eyes on the doorway to the left halfway down the steps. He just had to keep going. He put his left hand out to the corner and used it to push off of the wall as he stepped into the darker-still corridor. A garnet smear of blood was left on the grey brick as he disappeared into the black.

It was at that point that Amara appeared at the top of the steps, she slowly moved down them, she too keeping her eye on the doorway halfway down the steps: if she was running away this is where she’d go. She stopped, the gate open and considered whether to carry on down the steps when her eyes went to the blood smear. She paused, inhaled, smiled and walked inside. She looked in the first passageway on the right and saw Dean on his knees facing her, head bowed and his hands clutching his abdomen.

Dean looked up, a candle the only thing to light the room, while she slowly walked towards him. She stopped a step of two inside and closed the door. Dean felt sick; he was weak and he was trapped. There was only one option left: fight.

“It’ll be over soon,” Amara said and then smirked as she stopped three or four steps away. “But not _too_ soon.” She looked down at him and Dean could see her nostrils flare, probably smelling his scent but to him it looked like a wild animal smelling blood. Smelling weakness. “What would you prefer,” she asked and Dean looked up at her, “on your knees?” She paused, her disgusting smile giving away her thoughts. “Or on your back?”

Dean moved, lifted his weight from lying on his right leg and shifted. For a minute Amara thought he was moving to his back but then he looked up to her and began to stand.

He wasn’t done yet.

As he stood he pulled a sword from under his blanket and held it in his left hand while he clutched his abdomen with his right, both of his hands covered in blood. He looked up to her to see her face looking bored.

“Haven’t we been through this?” she said, tilting her head forward a little, raising her eyebrows, as if humoring him. “I’m going to help you.”

Dean shook his head and she began to step forward.

He closed his eyes and swept the sword to his right. He knocked the candle onto the ground and heard it clatter as the room went dark. He could feel her moving around, feel the impending danger, feel the scenarios that were running through his head making his body seize and convulse with fear and nausea.

And then he knew it was coming, he didn’t stand a chance, it was going to happen, he was going to be taken.

Cas woke up when Dean spun from the bed, yelling something intelligible while the baseball bat echoed a hollow metallic sound as it hit the bed and nightstand and the doorway as Dean stumbled into it.

“Dean?” Cas asked as he sat up.

“Stay there!” Dean hissed and ran into the living room, bat out like a sword.

His eyes hadn’t yet focused and he spun around, searching, he knew someone was there, waiting, his heart thrumming in his chest confirmed it. He had to protect himself and he had to protect Cas. He rounded the couch, turning around and around, a bird flew passed the window, its shadow flashed across the living room and Dean spun, stabbing the air with the bat as it swung in his hand. Cas’ eyes opened wide when a crash rang out and he ran into the living room to see Dean standing by the bathroom doorway, lowering the bat and turning the light on. His lamp lay in pieces across his armchair and floor, all the way to the wall beside the TV unit, office door and window seat.

Dean was suddenly awake.

“I thought-” he said softly.

He tensed when he felt someone to his left and he spun around, pulling the bat back.

“There’s no one there!” Cas called as he jumped onto the couch to avoid the broken pieces of lamp, slid over the now empty end table and came to stand next to Dean, using his right hand to take the bat from him.

“I thought-” Dean repeated.

“It’s okay,” Cas said and pulled Dean to him with his left arm. “It’ll be okay."

Dean looked in his eyes and found that he believed him so he had to turn away and put distance between them, walking the length of the apartment, towards the front door.

“Dean,” Cas put the baseball bat on the armchair and followed him, “it’ll be okay.”

“Will it?” Dean yelled as he turned at the door. He slapped it and pulled at the chain on the door. “Will it, Cas?” He slammed his fist into the door and grunted as he turned, holding his fist in pain.

Cas walked over to him. “Now you know how my head felt.” Dean glared at him. “Sorry,” he added. “Sit down.”

He lead him down to the closest chair and went to the freezer as Dean spoke, “Seven years ago I stood in that box and I told the court- I told them what Benny was like, I told them who I knew, who I’d trusted, who hadn’t even touched me- Not without my consent. I stood in that box because Aaron asked me to, because he needed me to, dead or alive he needed to know that he wasn’t to blame, that he was a victim. But before that, he needed to know he was not alone, that _I_ was not going to let him go through it alone. Because, as far as I was concerned, it was all my fault, I may as well have held him down-”

“Dean, that’s not true.” Cas brought over a bag of peas for Dean’s hand and he didn’t even flinch in response to the cold.

“It is!” Dean protested. “It-” He sighed. “It was. To me. Then.” Dean inhaled. “But now he’s out there and I feel like he’s circling me, waiting for the right moment. Aaron has locked himself in the bunker and I don’t blame him. I went to court, did it all, and it’s still haunting me I have to do it all again!" He gestured to the door. “Why can’t they-?” His voice broke. “Why-?” He inhaled and suddenly took off, running into the bedroom, dropping the peas to the floor in the process.

Cas hesitated but followed him, stopping in the doorway to observe Dean who was standing, looking in the mirror, staring into his own red, guilt-ridden eyes. There was an angry self-loathing light there as well.

“Don’t,” Cas said and Dean looked to him in the mirror. “Aaron was a victim and so are you, Dean.”

Dean scoffed and turned away.

“No,” Cas walked to him and rounded him, holding his shoulders. “Listen to me-”

“Cas-”

“You _are_ a victim, Dean,” Cas said. “You’re Benny’s victim, Amara’s victim and you’re your own victim. You have to stop hurting yourself like this, it’s-” Cas looked down and Dean’s eyes moved to his, watching his eyes searching over Dean’s t-shirt as if looking for something but couldn’t find it. “It’s _hell_ to watch, Dean.” He looked into Dean’s eyes and Dean felt his breath inhale quick and cold. It was as if he hadn’t even made the action. “The way you torture yourself makes me wonder just who you see when you look in the mirror because it’s not who _I_ see, it’s not what you deserve-” He pursed his lips and said, “It’s not _fair_ , Dean!”

“Cas, I don’t-”

“It’s not fair _to you_ ,” he added and exhaled, his eyes reddened and his throat became tight with emotion. “Don’t let the world do this to you.” His hands fell from Dean’s shoulders. “I refuse to let you do this to yourself. This time, you’re the victim and I’m telling you that you are not alone, Dean.”

Dean didn’t know what to say. He thought back to when he was a kid, when his mom would feed him tomato and rice soup when he was sick, when his dad would beat him up and then hand him a bottle of scotch and tell him to take it like a man, when Bobby would take his beer and tell him he wasn’t old enough, when he was older Sam would reset his shoulder without warning then tell him to stop whining, just like John did.

Dean searched his brain but the closest he’d ever come to someone letting him have _feelings_ , to even _force_ him to face them, was when Bobby tried to convince Dean to join the fire department after he moved in with him.

His tears had dried unnoticed while he was lost in his thoughts and he felt fidgety like he should do something, say something, but he didn’t know what. He and Cas had always had some manner of communication problem but he knew this was ridiculous. Dean felt like he’d had his voice stolen, as if he was on the cusp of saying something but his mouth would not open, probably because he had no words to say.

And yet, Cas was just staring at him, waiting for a response of some kind. Dean thought he could run away, that would certainly be a clear response, his go-to response when it came to intimacy. Cas had even called him on it before and Dean remembered Cas silhouetted in his bedroom window crying as Dean wrapped his arms around his sides and whispered an apology in his ear. He remembered the tension slowly leave Cas’ body as he’d accepted Dean’s embrace.

So, instead of putting distance between them Dean closed it. He kissed him, trying to put as much meaning into it as he could, since his words wouldn’t come. He wasn’t sure how Cas would react but he knew it was all he could do and if Cas called him on it he was afraid he might bare his soul and regret it. Mostly because he was too much of a coward to look in there himself so he didn’t know what mess of crap might come tumbling out.

However, Cas received it as if it were as good a response as any. Dean unconsciously noted that he didn’t hesitate or even seem surprised before he kissed him too and lifted his hands to the side of his face and back of his head; perhaps Cas even expected it. And Dean would idly think, in the subsequent moments, that Cas, who knew him better than anyone, most certainly did expect that.

Dean’s brow dipped as that thought occurred to him and his hands went to Cas’ sides, running up at the right and gripped him desperately. The idea that Cas knew that he didn’t know what to say, that he could only respond this way, and that he understood it all and accepted it _with gratitude,_ made Dean wish he’d pushed him away and forced Dean to spill his innermost thoughts and feelings. He wished he could have done that for him, he wished he could have given him that, because even that would never be enough to give to him. Dean wanted to cry, he could sense everything he felt welling up and – for the first time in what felt like forever – his emotions hit the surface and threatened to bubble over without his automatic response to quash it kicking in.

“S’okay,” Cas said against Dean’s lips, soothing him still. “S’okay.” He kissed him again and Dean felt his fingers runs through his hair.

Dean couldn’t take it, the way Cas was continuing to comfort him, and he felt like his words were aimed at Dean’s response, telling him that not finding words was okay. Dean knew he couldn’t pull back now because he couldn’t handle giving Cas what he knew he deserved. It was all too much for Dean to take. That meant he only had one more option – to jump right in.

He used his hands on Cas’ hips to push him backwards firmly, walking with him as he rounded them, aiming Cas’ back to the edge of the bed. When he contacted he slowly fell to sitting down and Dean lifted his legs to straddle him, Cas stretched his head to meet Dean’s which was bowed to prevent their lips from breaking. Cas lowered his hands, as Dean’s moved to his shoulders, to around and up Dean’s back, under his t-shirt.

Cas could feel the urge in him to take over appear as if out of nowhere so he pulled back and looked up at Dean who looked down at him with mild confusion.

“Is this what you want right now?” Cas asked. “Is this what you need?” He looked between his eyes.

Dean knew what he was asking; is this your way of avoiding the issue or is this how you want to work through it?

He paused and lifted his right hand to the side of Cas’ face and found the only words he required for that moment. “I need you,” his eyes fell to Cas’ lips, “me and you.”

Cas paused before he nodded. “I can do that.” He lifted his own hand to the back of Dean’s head and pulled him in for a kiss. As soon as it happened Dean could feel the shift between them; he’d started this but Cas was taking the lead and he felt relief flow through him – he was more than happy to let it happen.

Cas only kissed him once innocently before he pushed his tongue into Dean’s mouth and he tensed as his immediate reaction was to lift Dean as he stood and move into the bed properly but his mind reminded him that with the lack of heat that wasn’t going to be easy. Dean also expected him to move them this way so he was surprised when Cas lay back on the bed where he was, using his hand on Dean’s head to pull him with him. Dean let his hands fall to the mattress at either side of Cas’ head and felt Cas’ other hand move up Dean’s arm, over his shoulder then to his side.

And then Cas slowly turned them to his right and then back to his left, slowly and with difficulty, edging them up the bed as far as he could. Dean opened his eyes and his brow dipped with confusion as it happened but made no real attempt to help him.

“You coulda lifted me,” Dean said and Cas moved down to his neck.

“Couldn’t,” he said against his skin with a breathless exhale.

“Yeah, you coulda,” Dean disagreed and exhaled himself. A weird feeling built up inside of him. He ran his hand through Cas’ hair as he tried to identify it. He thought it could only be need, not sexual need, but emotional need. He _needed_ , not just Cas, but – strangely – Cas to lift him. He tried to understand why he needed something as stupid as that. “You’ve done it before.”

He’d said it purely because of the silence but it was true, Cas had lifted him many times before without effort. He’d lifted him against walls and doors, carried him into the bedroom. He thought back to their first heat, the first time Cas had lifted him against the front door, his mind deciding that Cas had done it with one strong hand. His forehead in tensed in pain as he wished he was on his heat, because it was easier back then, when it was just sex and not emotion.

“Not from this angle,” Cas said, but they both knew what he meant – not without his heat, not easily. He moved back up to kissing Dean on the lips and his hands ran down Dean’s neck, it was as if Cas knew why and was trying to give him a consolation prize.

Dean couldn’t ignore the longing he had for his heat because then he wouldn’t be able to think about Amara or Benny, or what they were sharing. All his mind would be filled with would be his heat and satisfying it. It sounded like heaven to Dean right then.

Dean pulled from the kiss and said, “Lift me.”

Cas didn’t see the seriousness on his face because he’d dipped his head to kiss Dean’s chest and so he chuckled and shook his head as he hummed in the negative. He lifted his head to resume kissing Dean but his attention was immediately sharp on Dean’s face when Dean leaned back to prevent him from doing so.

“Lift me,” Dean repeated, his tone left no space for negotiation.

“Lift you where?” Cas asked confusion tensing his face but Dean only nudged his head upwards, indicating the top of the bed.

Cas could see that whatever his reasons this was something he needed, probably more than he needed what they were doing. And while he didn’t understand it he didn’t ask Dean to explain it because he was sure in his own head that even Dean had no idea why. So instead he rolled over Dean, lifted his left leg to his hip, curling his hand under Dean’s buttock and heaved him up to the head of the bed, dropping him onto the mattress, his head bouncing slightly on the side of the left pillow. He exhaled sharply like someone who has just completely a physically-tasking movement.

Dean’s leg slipped from his hip but his foot stayed up there while Cas shifted on his hands on the mattress. “Happy?” he asked, miffed by how much it took out of him, rather than the fact that Dean insisted in it.

Dean sensed his irritation but the way he dipped and kissed Dean’s neck and up to his jaw made him smile with the knowledge that it was with himself and not Dean. “Honey, you coulda done better than that,” he teased.

Cas could hear the smile in his voice and smiled himself, knowing that the tension Dean felt a moment ago was appeased. “Not right now,” he said and Dean used his foot to pull Cas’ hips down to his and Cas groaned when they met, moving to his elbows to get closer to him.

As Cas’ kisses on his skin became more insistent a voice in Dean’s head, languid and carefree, said four words: no heat, just you. Every single action between them right then wasn’t a biological reaction, not an instinct; Cas’ right hand ran down Dean’s side because he wanted to feel him, and because he felt good; Cas’ left hand cupped Dean’s head as they kissed to pull him closer because kissing, and kissing this wantonly, felt damn good.

Dean lifted his head to help, he ran his own hand up Cas’ back under his t-shirt just as Cas began kissing his jawline. His lips parted and he moaned softly in response to feeling Cas’ lips on his skin; the hot, slightly heavy air from his nostrils, the pressure from where Cas’ nose was pushing into him under his ear. That feeling Dean realized, was mind-blowing and that revelation was mind-blowing in itself. Mostly every other time there had been hormones or panic because he was leaving Cas that yanked his attention away. Up until now, every time they’d reached for one another it’d felt like they’d been starved for so long, or were about to be, they’d raced through the desert to the oasis and drank greedily, as much and as quickly as possible.

But now?

Now was different somehow, as cliché as that was. Dean might be the king of denial but deep down he knew what he was doing, and Cas knew what he was doing. Hell, anyone would be able to ascertain that he had asked for comfort sex. He might not have said those exact words but he’d asked all the same. He was always up for the times in which they pulled at each other’s clothing impatient with desire and rolled around with swelling passion but then he wondered if they’d ever just rolled around. During heat it was all about being knotted as hard as possible but out of heat it was still gasping for breath as they went as fast as they could.

However, this didn’t feel like fucking to block out the world. This was unexpected. He’d never thought it possible that comfort sex could feel so much like _care_.

Cas considered every kiss he placed on Dean’s skin, even the force with which it was given felt predetermined and carefully carried out. Dean felt a euphoria build up inside him. He wanted more. Every soft stroke of Cas’ hand against his side drove him nuts – it wasn’t like lust, it was as if Cas was checking he was still there, or maybe he was letting Dean know that it was _he_ that hadn’t left. He lifted his right hand and slowly ran it up Dean’s left arm, the touch was so gentle Dean wondered if he were in fact preparing to leave. But then, as if he’d read his mind, he pressed a little and ran down his upper arm before running it back up. Dean felt his body pulse and then he leaked and there was only one explanation that made any sense to him.

“I’m-” Dean started to say but then had to stop to groan, his eyes closing, when Cas bit into his neck, slowly and softly. “Heat.”

Cas lifted back to look down at him. “What was that, baby?” Dean sighed at the buzz slowly fading and Cas kissing his jawline.

“I- I think I’m going into heat,” Dean said, opening his eyes.

Cas’ eyes widened and he lifted up on his hands. “What, really?” He lifted his left hand to Dean’s forehead. The idea of another week with Dean made his heart jump.

“Yeah,” Dean moaned and exhaled.

Now he didn’t want to go into heat, he didn’t want Cas to stop, he wanted every cautious touch, every tickling, gentle stroke. Yet, simultaneously, that would be too dangerous, too emotional, too close to the wire, too far away from the no-strings sex they were supposed to be having. That would mean that it felt this good because it was Cas and because it was them. Yesterday that might have been fine, to be expected even. But today was different, Dean was different.

Cas couldn’t feel the telltale heat and sweat on Dean’s forehead, not like in heat, so he moved his hand to Dean’s neck. He watched Dean’s reactions; he moved away to give Cas room but also leaning into it as much as he could. But he didn’t look at Cas, he didn’t use his hands to pull at him, he didn’t wrap his legs around him, beg to be fucked or knotted. His brow dipped and he leaned down, trying to inhale his scent. Dean closed his eyes, the warmth from Cas’ body was enough to make him want to lie there all day and forget the world.

“Cas, kiss me like before-” Dean lifted his hand to cup Cas’ head but it wasn’t desperate or begging, it was gentle. “Cas.”

Cas leaned down and kissed his neck, Dean hummed but Cas pulled back too soon for his liking. He looked down at Dean. “I don’t think you’re going into heat, Dean.”

“I am,” Dean insisted with a nod as Cas lowered to kiss his clavicle then up to his neck where he bit lightly. “Why else would this feel so good?”

He felt Cas pause. “Doesn’t it always feel good?” he asked and lifted to look in Deans eyes.

“Not like this,” Dean said.

Cas stopped, looking from eye to eye. He wasn’t sure what that meant.

“S’like,” Dean said breathlessly, “time’s stopped. He watched Cas slowly smile and lift his hand, running the back of his crooked index finger down the side of his jawline. “What?” he asked.

Cas’ smile widened a little and he half-shrugged. “Time always stops for us.” He paused a second before his eyes moved to where he was stroking and then he leaned down, kissing his jawline and then his neck.

Dean tried to nod but couldn’t. He didn’t want to admit how true that was because that would mean going back to what he’d already admitted to himself and Cas just the day before. He was ready to deal with that yesterday but today it was too much. Except that he couldn’t deny it’d always felt good between them.

Cas leaned back on his heels gesturing for Dean to sit forward so that he could pull his t-shirt above his head, throwing it to the side. The fabric had barely left his skin before Dean was kissing him hard, pulling him deeper in.

Dean’s mind was unconsciously running through the last few days and how good it’d felt being together like this. He remembered opening the door and Cas’ smile, he thought about the dinners they’d had, watching _Dr Sexy_ on the sofa, doing other things on the sofa. He thought about the arguments too. He tightened his eyes when he saw himself pushing Cas into the door. But then his mind switched, trying to protect itself, and he saw both of them on the floor, Cas pushing him so that he could sit on top of him, he saw his hands run up and hold his wrists against the floor.

A jolt of arousal had gone through him and his mouth became dry.

He pulled out of the kiss. “Tie me up,” he blurted out, almost as disbelievingly as Cas evidently was at hearing the words.

“Pardon?” he said.

But now that the idea was in his head he wasn’t backing down. “My hands, tie me to the bed,” he said.

Cas’ mouth gaped for a second before he stuttered, “Wh- Where did that come from?”

“The other day, when we were on the floor, you had my hands above my head,” Dean said.

“You liked that?” Cas asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said and nodded but saw the apprehension on Cas’ face. “But if you don’t-”

“It’s not that,” Cas said. “Is that the best idea, given what’s been going on?”

Dean nodded once. “That’s why I want to do it.”

Cas’ brow dipped further. “Dean, I don’t understand.”

Dean huffed. “When I was lying under you I felt- Even though I know that I only have to ask you to stop, I felt like you had control.” He looked down. “Right now, I could do with giving up control.” Cas swallowed as Dean looked up at him. “It’s weird, I know. Forget it, forget I said anything.” He leaned forward to kiss Cas who let it happen but didn’t kiss back, making Dean lean back too. “What?”

“It’s… not weird,” Cas said.

“Cas, forget-”

“Dean,” Cas said. “I am not opposed to the idea if that is what you want. I am just concerned you’ll change your mind and it’ll be too far. However…” He hesitated. “I have an idea, if you will permit?” Dean nodded slowly. “Where is your bath robe?”

“The bathroom,” Dean said, not sure why he should have to explain that.

Cas clambered off of the bed and disappeared from the room. Dean sat up properly and ruffled his hair as he exhaled nervously. When Cas returned it was without the robe but with the tie from it.

“Oh,” Dean said and smiled. “That’s your idea?”

Cas sat on the bed near Dean and turned towards him. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “I mean, not like I have handcuffs or anything.” He smirked.

“I thought you might want to keep this separate from work,” Cas said. “And this way, if you want to escape you don’t have to wait for me to unlock you.”

“Okay,” Dean said and Cas leaned forward to him. He put his hands out and smirked before he joked, “Be gentle.”

Cas smiled as he began tying Dean’s wrists together, recognizing it at once as bravado. “If that’s what you want.”

Dean hummed, interested. “Maybe not,” he said, biting his lip as he watched Cas work. He was using one end to tie Dean’s wrists together, leaving a long trail of the rest of the tie. “Why do I feel like I’m about to walk behind a horse into town?” Cas chuckled, it was so typical of Dean that he knew he should have seen it coming. “Or on a leash.” He smirked. “New kinda doggy style?”

“This is your emergency exit,” Cas said and gestured to the ‘leash’. “Lie down whichever way you want.”

“Well, how do you want me?” Dean asked instead.

Cas considered not answering but he figured Dean wanted him to decide so he did. “Face that way,” he gestured across Dean to his own left.

“On my side?” Dean asked and Cas nodded. “Alright.” Dean used his hands, tied together, to push himself onto his side.

“Come further down,” Cas said and Dean looked at him moving further down the bed on his knees too, “so that you can stretch your hands up.”

“Yessir,” Dean quipped as he moved down the bed, Cas’ hands going to his hips to help him. He lifted his knees up and his buttocks came flush against Cas’ legs. “Like that?” he asked as he lifted his hands up and looked to him.

Cas’ eyes drifted over his chest, his muscles tightening and moving as his arms lifted. “Yes, I do,” he replied and leaned over Dean, moving the end of the tie up towards the headboard, dragged it through a gap in the base and put it in Dean’s hand. “Hold this, if you want out, let go.”

Dean inhaled. “Cas, honestly, I appreciate that more than you know. But, I don’t want to think…” He shook his head, looking into Cas’ eyes. “At all.” Cas’ eyes tensed and he looked worried. “I trust you, _you_ hold the end, pull it,” he looked away, “loosen it, whatever you want.”

Cas’ eyes narrowed, noting Dean’s look away and wondered if Dean would rather he pulled it. “You’re sure about this?” he asked.

“Yes,” Dean said.

Cas nodded. “Okay,” he said, wrapped the end around his right hand and pulled as he looked up. Dean’s arms stretched and Cas tilted his head, looking at the bend in his elbow. “Not enough.” He moved back on his knees. “Move down.”

Dean noted the tone; there was no question, no full sentences. It was an order. He was fine with that and so he moved down until his buttocks hit Cas’ legs again. “Better?” he asked but didn’t need an answer because Cas’ eyes were moving over his body, drinking in the way that his muscles moved. His pectoral muscles squeezes together as his arms came up harder, his triceps bulged but spread up, his oblique and lats swelled. It all tensed and relaxed as he tested the feeling.

“You tell me,” Cas said. “How does it feel?”

Dean began to flush red over his face and neck as heat rushed over him. “Yeah,” he croaked.

“Yeah?” Cas repeated. “Does it feel good?”

Dean cleared his throat. “I guess.”

Cas slowly – so that Dean would watch, which he did – wrapped more of the tie around his hand and leaned on his left hand over Dean, kissing the side of his neck. “Does it?” He pulled the tie and Dean’s arms stretched causing Dean to grunt but then groan in an exhale. “Tell me,” Cas said in his ear. Dean just nodded, his eyes closed and his lips pulled in, as if embarrassed. “It does?”

Dean pursed his lips momentarily, his expression betraying that he knew Cas wanted to hear it, perhaps _needed_ to. “Yeah,” he said and turned his head into his pillow, hiding his face.

“Baby,” Cas said and nosed at Dean’s jawline softly. “Don’t do that. I wish you didn’t feel like you had to-” He decided not to turn this into a _moment_ and so poked Dean in the side.

Dean squirmed as if it tickled. “Hey!” he said and laughed.

“How does that feel?” Cas asked and tickled him for real.

Dean panicked but still laughed, closing his eyes tight. “No, no, come on.” He laughed as he squirmed his body. “Cas, stop, please!” Cas stopped and he exhaled in relief as he opened his eyes. “That was _not_ cool!”

“Then don’t hide from me,” Cas said and kissed Dean hard on the lips.

Dean smiled, thinking – in the space of a second – that he was right, that to hide from Cas was silly, while he was allowed his embarrassment and it would probably take a while to really get over it, if ever, if he would ever get the courage up to come back around to talking to Cas about them then something like this needed to be worked on and he may as well start now; and then his thoughts switched tracks, because this wasn’t supposed to be about any of that, this was supposed to be about not thinking, not considering how he looked or felt, this was supposed to be wiping everything blank and letting everything rest in Cas’ hands and how would that work if he shied away from what he asked for?

He closed his eyes and then exhaled one chuckle as he opened them again and looked at Cas who hummed in question.

“Habit of a lifetime, I guess,” he said. “But not right now.” Cas smiled and kissed him again. “Sorry,” Dean said against his lips when Cas had barely pulled back.

Cas visibly faltered at the sincerity of the apology. “It’s okay,” he said.

“So, why am I on my side?” Dean asked, so casually that anyone listening would not be able to guess what they were doing. “Are you going to spank me?” His smile widened.

“I will if you want me to,” Cas replied, stroking his right hand over Dean’s left buttock and tilted his head to the right in question.

Dean paused, the muscles under his eyes minutely tensing so that the insides of the lower eyelids lifted barely a millimeter as images of what that would be like flooded his mind. He decided to try that another time and the idea that he was as open to trying to discover what he liked as Cas seemed to be made his mouth twitch at the left side.

“Why am I on my side?” Dean asked again, but the relaxed tone and his expression told Cas everything he was thinking.

“I just thought we’d try it,” Cas said.

Dean chewed on that for a moment then his chin lifted as his lips minutely sponged together and his eyebrows lifted, his left higher than the right. He had to admit that was as good a reason as any. “Good ‘nough,” he said and then his eyes focused on Cas as he moved on his knees and leaned down to kiss his chest and then his side. He watched as much as he could see. He felt Cas pull his briefs at the elastic band, felt them squeeze between his buttocks and the mattress as they slid down his legs and off his feet. The cold followed the fabric down over his crotch, he was semi-hard and Cas’ eyes immediately went to the length, not leaving them as he tossed Deans underwear to the floor.

He felt the instinct to ask Dean if he wanted him to stop swell up, the words almost passing over his tongue, but he stopped it by kissing Dean’s left hip instead, pushing his warm tongue against the skin. Dean closed his eyes and inhaled slowly as Cas kissed down his thigh, moving inward as he lifted Dean’s leg with his right hand under his knee, making it bend slightly.

Dean let a moan lift from his throat and escape through his nose and then opened his eyes to watch Cas move forward so that Dean’s left calf rested on Cas’ left shoulder. He lifted his right hand and Dean tried to move his left arm back while Cas lifted his right hand which still had the tie wrapped loosely around it, put two fingers to his mouth and stopped.

“We should use lubrication,” he said and opened his mouth, putting his fingers in but then removed them to say, “right?”

Dean licked his lips. “Put them in your mouth,” he said.

Dean watched a smirk start to materialize on Cas’ face but never fully get there before he gestured his hand and slowly put them in his mouth, closing his lips around them and Dean watched as the muscles in his jaw moved while Cas used his tongue to soak them and then his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed around them then pulled them out wet and his tongue pressed against the gap in his teeth, his mouth hanging open while his eyes darkened.

Dean inhaled in anticipation as Cas lowered them out of sight and Dean felt them press at his hole and slowly push all the way inside. He groaned in response and closed his eyes, bit his lip then let it slip out as Cas began to slow pump his fingers in and out.

“You’re so wet,” Cas managed to breathe, the surprise evident.

“I know,” Dean said and let his head slip back in between his arms, making the sounds around him muffled. He was trying to push away the part of him that wanted to tell Cas to hurry up and get inside him but as he moved his arm to allow for his warm and damp skin pulling on his face his wrist pulled against his restraint and it sent a surge of arousal through him. It was a very effective reminder of what they were doing this for, other than the pleasure of course. Even though the words sat on his tongue he managed to keep them there however his hips rolled, betraying his impatience.

“Do you want me to do this quicker?” Cas asked. Dean swallowed but managed to shake his head, Cas caught the movement even though it was hard to see as a result of the awkward angle he was looking at Dean. “No?” Cas slowed his hand in and out of Dean even more and watched Dean’s chest inflated as he inhaled; he wanted to slap his hand over his mouth to really keep the pleas inside but he couldn’t so he pursed his lips together instead and hummed in the negative. “Are you sure?” Dean hummed in the positive and groaned in his throat, and then Cas decided to thrust his hand in hard and Dean’s mouth fell open. His groan became a guttural moan and his hands automatically pulled against the restraint. Cas actually chuckled, it was deep and cocky, and Dean thought it was like caramel.

“You bastard,” he mumbled while Cas resumed thrust his fingers in and out slowly. He pulled it out, almost all the way, and then pushed in hard again, making Dean inhale audibly before he moaned with an exhale that betrayed his surprise. “Cas, I want you to hurry up but I want this to last too.”

Cas slowly pumped his hand in and out as he considered Dean who opened his eyes and turned to try and look at him. “I think I have an idea.”

They then spoke at the same time; Cas saying, “Let me just-” as Dean started to quip that Cas was full of ideas but he was cut off by Cas pulling his hand back and then thrust it quick and hard in and out of Dean who moaned loudly and tensed his upper thigh, letting his calf slip off of Cas’ shoulder to the ankle.

Cas chuckled again when he stopped and Dean forcibly exhaled as he pulled his hand completely out.

Dean followed the movement with the exclamation, “Bastard!” He turned to look at Cas, bending his elbow to stop his elbow muffling his left ear.

“I had to,” Cas said with a shudder of a laugh.

“You had to?” Dean asked. “You _had_ to, really?”

Cas shook his head. “I told you, if you make noises like that-” He lowered his eyes as his left eyebrow lifted and Dean’s eyes darted over every inch of his face. To Dean it seemed like Cas gave so little away that when he did show expression he wanted to memorize it, witness it, like a cosmic event. Some people gathered when the moon blocked out the sun or when something that could have wiped out the Earth passes by, however Dean didn’t need to look to the heavens to find a miracle: he had his own right in front of him.

“I don’t think my neighbors will appreciate them as much as you do.” He exhaled as Cas’ left hand ran up and down his right thigh while he was lining up his tip. “You’re gonna get me evicted.”

“Well, if that happens you can live with me,” Cas said and Dean looked to him but was distracted when Cas pushed into him in one swift movement. Dean opened his mouth to ask him what he had just said or meant by it but when Cas pushed Dean’s left knee with his own left hand so that his calf slid over his shoulder and began thrusting in and out without warning the action lost all traction.

Dean felt the mattress dip in front of him when Cas pressed his left hand into the mattress, he then felt Cas’ right hand support Dean who lifted from the mattress with the change of position by pressing his hand into his lower back, only moving it to pull on the robe tie or tighten his grip. It suited Dean because his kept his arms straight and his ears covered, meaning he didn’t have to seriously think about the noises he was making – and he knew there was a lot – or those Cas was making either. He wanted to lie there and give his will to Cas for the next however long they lasted. That way it was all out of his hands, what he and Cas got out of this wasn’t his responsibility at all. He didn’t have to do anything except lie there, feel and react, and he didn’t have to consider how it looked or sounded or could be perceived or what it might say about him.

If he had thought about it – or asked Cas’ therapist – he’d probably point out – or she would – that he’d never been allowed to feel or react without consequence in his life and so this wasn’t so surprising. But he refused to think about it or try to explain it, he just wanted to go with it and lose control for a while.

It was barely a minute before Cas put his right hand into the mattress behind Dean and lifted his left hand to stroke Dean’s cock. He was slow and firm, managing to be slightly painful from the lack of speed on its own. And yet Dean found it just as pleasurable, possibly more so. He inhaled, not sure he’d be able to last much longer without begging for relief or even when he acquiesced. But Cas didn’t speed up his stokes, he keep his hand movements slow, as if he wasn’t gradually increasing the speed and force of his hips.

Dean’s mouth was becoming dry and he pushed away the anxiety of his volume, he knew his neighbors had to be hearing him but he mostly just didn’t care. There was the innate need to be considerate and the learned need to be private that were trying with everything they had to force him to do something about it however he was really sick of the world changing him and so he continued to let Cas care about all of that. Cas could hear him, he wasn’t trying to shut him up, Cas was thrusting harder, stroking slower, sweating and probably moaning himself. Everything was in Cas’ hands. Hell, even his hands were in Cas’ hands. Cas thrust hard and Dean felt the tie being tugged at too; as if he knew that Dean had needed reassurance then.

Cas was looking down at Dean, his head angled to the left to see his face better. There were beads of sweat around his hairline and he could feel the damp on his shoulder and chest where Deans leg rested and rubbed. He listened to the way he moaned, without filter it sounded so pure and beautiful he wished all of Dean’s life could be like this – unaffected by outside influence. But, he had to suppose that where outside influence had hurt this man it had also made him into the person he was and therefore was at least part of the reason he was in Cas’ life so he was torn. He could feel his own sweat running down his back and the fingers on his right hand losing blood but he didn’t care.

Dean’s right arm was numb and going cold and his left foot was becoming prickly with the beginnings of pins and needles and yet the pull on his wrists, combined with the swirl of pleasure swelling inside of him with every thrust of Cas’ hips was incredible. Cas’ slow hand on his penis was beginning to make him a kind of restless, it was testing his resolve and he was sure it was about to break. He knew if it had been his own hand he wouldn’t have gotten this far, he’d have hunted that orgasm down quicker than any bail. He shook the thought from his mind: he didn’t want to think about that either. He wouldn’t have even had to encourage himself, his hand would have just known when to speed up.

Like now.

“Cas-” Dean sobbed, his eyes squeezed tight. He pursed his lips hard, already regretting speaking. He really didn’t want to influence this, he wanted Cas to do whatever he wanted however he wanted to do it. He wanted what he felt to be at Cas’ hands, he wanted that cluelessness of what was coming, what to expect and complete trust that not only was he going to be okay but it was blow his damn mind. Because Cas always did.

He slightly moved his fingers and foot, trying to wake them up a little, but the pins and needles spread through his right foot and bottom of his leg, actually making it worse and so he groaned and abandoned it.

He wondered idly if porn had trained him to think that the penetration and strokes had to match but he panicked, thinking that perhaps, if they didn’t match in speeds then he wouldn’t even get to the happy ending. Or it’d hurt like a sonfofabitch.

“Baby-” Cas said as Dean resumed moaning, whimpering and groaning. He bit Dean’s left arm; it was playful but hard enough to register through everything else Dean was feeling. Whether he meant to be reassuring or not it was to Dean, it reminded him that – even if he couldn’t hear Cas – Cas could hear him, he was there and he was going to catch him: in other words Dean had given Cas control and he had a tight grip on the reins. Or the robe tie.

Dean stopped moving his foot and hand, he stopped trying to bite down on the odd moan and bit the inside of his cheeks, determined to make it through.

Cas, on the other hand, wasn’t sure he was going to make it. Keeping up the different speeds was as difficult as rubbing your head and patting your stomach and the angle he was at was making his forearm and stomach begin to cramp. He put his forehead on Dean’s left arm, closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, determined to try.

Dean really needed it to go faster now, even as he felt the buzz get more intense, the engine revving louder, Cas’ hand stayed slow and steady. And then, just as thought this would go on for hours, like glorious torture, the engine suddenly burst into a roar and he couldn’t deny it, he was reaching the home stretch.

“Cas-” He moaned, his words and exclamations part panic and part relief for what was to come. “Oh m- Cas- Cas, h-”

It was getting hotter, sweat squeezed from the crease made where his shoulder was by his up-stretched arms and ran diagonally down his chest, tickling as it hit his nipple. It was finally becoming too much in a frightening way, he felt sure it would hurt, that he’d never make it through. He instinctively moved his hands to pull Cas’ hand away and he managed to pull them enough to bend at the elbow, lifting from his ear which suddenly went cold and damp. It was then that Dean heard what his arm had been hiding from him.

Cas was speaking in low, breathless murmurs, through the effort and pleasure.

“Dean- I got you- Oh, fu- You’re- You’re okay- You’re okay, S’just us-” Cas moaned and Dean felt his entire system twitch in response, he even moaned. “”S’it feel good?” Cas asked in response, not expecting an answer.

“Yeah,” Dean replied, nodding. Cas even opened his eyes for a second and looked at him before he had to close them again.

It was then that Dean closed his eyes, lowered his arms and knew he’d ride it out, even if it took another hour. He bowed his head and concentrated on the feeling, rubbing his heel on Cas’ back.

Cas’ thrust continued and then Deans balls drew up and Dean tried to warn him but nothing that came out of his mouth could have been construed as a word before his reality snapped and he came hard, – harder than he’d ever came in his life – intensely and almost violently.

He wasn’t aware of even existing for a whole three seconds until it stopped and his moans petered out. He exhaled a groan and realized his ears were ringing but still hadn’t registered what Cas had watched happen with dark, wide eyes: that Dean’s semen had hit his own face.

Cas watched it and then immediately started ejaculating, calling out something unintelligible that had started out as the name of the man underneath him, he did so with such force that he gripped both hands, including the one around Dean’s still pulsing cock.

Dean cried out and then said, “Cas, let go!”

Cas’ eyes opened and he looked down before doing just that. “I apologize.”

Dean exhaled forcibly through his mouth. “S’okay. Wow, ouch.” He chuckled once and then registered something was on his face. He knew there was only one thing it could be. “Wait, is that-?”

He instinctively moved his hands to wipe it off but was shocked into silence when a loud growl filled the room and his hands were yanked upwards, pain striking in his arms, his hands hitting the headboard. He’d barely opened his mouth to react when the growl ceased and his hands came loose.

“Oh, my God,” Cas exhaled in one breath and pulled the tie from around his right hand with his left, eased Dean’s left leg back to sit on the other, and moved to untie Dean as Dean looked at him, slowly realizing that the noise had come from him. As had the action. “I apologize. I don’t know why I did that.” Dean felt the pressure that had been around his wrists ease and then warm blood rush back into his fingertips. “Don’t move, I’ll get-” Dean heard tissues being pulled from the box on his nightstand and he lowered his hands to see Cas leaning to it.

Cas put them into his hands and looked down as he was forced to put his right hand in the mattress to hold himself up. He didn’t want to look up at Dean who still had that on his face.

He’d liked it. He’d _really_ liked it. But he hadn’t meant to do what he’d done and that was the worst of it. Just when he felt like he’d given up all of his control to Dean and it wasn’t so bad, it wasn’t something he couldn’t handle, something new came along and he was terrified and ashamed again. Here he was feeling like something was waiting in the backseat once more.

“Can you pass more?” Dean said and Cas did just that, again refusing to look him in the face even as Dean reached out to put the used ones on the nightstand. “So,” Dean said and wiped the rest from his face, “you growled at me.” He saw Cas’ eyes tighten even further in obvious shame that seemed to hurt him and his head turn further away. “I didn’t know,” he reached to put the rest on the nightstand, one of them falling to the bedroom floor, “that alphas could do that out of heat.” Cas didn’t say anything. “Cas?”

Cas swallowed. “I… I don’t- I don’t want- I don’t want to talk about it,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry that I did what- that I did what I did and I won’t do it again.”

Dean hesitated, considering it. “Okay, we won’t talk about it.” Cas nodded once. “We _should_ though. I wasn’t complaining, I was trying to understand what-”

“Dean, please,” Cas said, looking him in the eye and then away again.

Dean could see the unmistakable shame and he could see that, whatever the reason was, he was nowhere near ready to deal with it.

“Okay, yeah,” Dean said. “Can you hand me the wet wipes in the drawer?”

Cas nodded and leaned over to do just that while he was very aware that Dean’s eyes were scanning his face.

>><< 

Cas avoided Dean the second he was able to, in fact, he avoided him the entire time they were stuck together too. While Cas didn’t force himself out he’d wanted to and they both could sense it and so it was probably a good thing that Cas’ knot barely lasted half an hour. He was on his feet and getting dressed before Dean had barely sat up and then he mumbled something about lunch before he dashed from the room. Dean had quickly cleaned himself and dressed too then walked out of the room. Cas walked towards him quickly, shoved a plate with a sandwich on it into his hands and then left his side just as quickly.

Dean still felt yuck so he muttered a thanks and went to the bathroom. When he came out Cas was sitting on the couch and reading that book again.

“I thought you might wanna watch some _Dr Sexy_?” Dean asked leaning his hands on the back of the couch and then reached out his right hand to run through Cas’ hair.

Cas moved his head away and Dean’s hand froze. “If you want to,” Cas said and slipped the bookmark in place, closing the book.

Dean’s jaw set; he refused to be treated like this, he refused to waste his time and energy on someone who clearly didn’t want it.

“You know what,” he said and Cas turned to look at him as he took a step backwards and lifted his hands in the air, lunging forward to grab his sandwich from the kitchen table, “I _don’t_ want to.” He walked away to the office and slammed the door.

Cas ran his hand over his face and groaned in frustration.

Why did they always end up here? At least this time he knew it was his own fault. But admitting it, and admitting why, that was another matter.

And there was Gabriel’s voice again, right on cue, with that intonation he only ever used or a movie reference , a smug undertone to every syllable: “ _Fasten your seatbelts, it’s gonna be a bumpy night.”_

Cas barely had time to think of how he would respond to that when Dean burst back into the room. “No,” he said and stopped beside the armchair, pointing at Cas who looked up.

“No?” he asked.

“No,” Dean repeated with one nod as he took a step closer. “You don’t get to do that. _You’re_ the one being a jackass so no, you don’t get to-” He mimicked Cas frustrated groan. “I’m the one that get’s to-” He did it again and pointed behind him. “I get to slam the door and you get to sit there,” he pointed to the couch, “and take it.” He let his hand fall. “Okay?”

Cas opened his mouth to answer.

“I wasn’t asking!” Dean declared as it just occurred to him that it probably wasn’t something he _should_ be asking. He turned around, disappeared back into the office and slammed the door, harder than before to make sure his point was heard.

 _“What we have here is a failure to communicate.”_ Gabriel added.

Cas sighed. “Understatement,” he muttered to himself and sat back, taking his punishment.

 

Dean emerged three times during which he took his dish to the sink, urinated, grabbed chips and got water but each time he was on his cellphone and acted like Cas wasn’t there. He even stayed on a call while peeing, which, judging by the subsequent conversation Cas heard, did not go down well with Charlie.

Each time Cas looked up, put his book down, lowered the volume on the TV, sat up or forward on the couch, turning his torso when Dean walked around the apartment, and yet Dean didn’t turn his head. He didn’t even glance to him as he ‘uh-huh’ed his way through a story, job inquiry or joke. He’d then head back into his office and close the door. That was the part that made Cas’ eyes close: each time the close would be softer. To Cas it meant that he was less angry but his lack on interaction meant that he was still hurt.

Cas made Dean a mug of black coffee and listened at the closed office door. He couldn’t hear any talking so he knocked the wood three times with the knuckle of the middle finger of his left hand.

Dean paused with the noise and knew he had to answer so he grunted.

Cas opened the door and took one step inside. Dean was sitting on a computer chair at a laptop on his desk facing the wall that the office shared with his bedroom. Cas waited, expecting Dean to turn to look at him or at least ask what he’d knocked for. But he didn’t.

Cas dipped his head as Dean continued to look between a map on the wall in front of him and a law book to his right of his laptop.

“I made you coffee,” Cas said, his voice quiet and Dean tensed, it sounded anxious.

He felt horrible, he didn’t have to put up with Cas’ mood but he didn’t have to be cruel either so he had to give him something. “Thanks,” he said, however flatly.

Cas hesitated before he stepped in the room and Dean found what he was looking for so reached across to the left for his cellphone. Cas put his coffee down and picked up the empty mug as Dean dialed.

“Dean, can we-?” Cas started but stopped when Dean put his hand up. It wasn’t hard, it was loose and he pointed to his cellphone in explanation before he began talking into it but he didn’t look to him.

“Hey man,” Dean said and let his hand fall. “I’ve been checking and I don’t think-” Dean turned in his seat when he heard the office door click closed. “I don’t think the nest is there anymore. The law changed in oh-six, they woulda shagged ass.” He lowered his head to his right hand as the other hunted spoke and he nodded, then turned in his seat, back to the book.

Cas had walked outside and stood there, lifting his hand to his forehead just as Dean had done the exact same thing. He gestured it out wide as he asked himself why he was needlessly causing this.

Was it something that scared him? Yes. Was it something he could handle? With Dean he felt like he could handle anything.

He turned back to the office and put his hand on the doorknob but then heard voices inside and after listening for a few seconds he determined that the call he was on was work related so he paced the floor in front of Dean’s office, determined to go in there as soon as Dean came off the phone.

Twenty minutes later he was sitting on the window seat and quickly stood when Dean opened the door but he moved too quickly for Cas to stop him and he was still on his cellphone.

“I’m telling you, Sammy,” Dean said, glancing to Cas – wondering why he’d been sitting there – as he crossed the living room to the front door, through which he disappeared before Cas would hear what he was telling his brother.

Cas took a step forward in mild surprise and then turned to the office then the window. He then turned his head back to the door with narrowed eyes; it wasn’t closed over completely, he had no coat or keys and, if Cas remembered correctly, no shoes.

Around five minutes later Dean wandered back in, pausing at the door and looking at Cas for a second before he looked away guiltily and closed the door with his right foot, holding his mail in his right hand.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, not sounding happy about it.

Cas watched him cross the living room again, the same way he’d left the apartment but this time Cas stepped in front of the office door, his left hand on the door frame. Dean stopped and looked him over, not sure what he was going to do.

Cas was very aware that he’d been talking to Sam when he’d left and so didn’t want to cause more problems. He only moved his lips when he said, “Hang up,” but no sound came out of his mouth.

“Mmm,” Dean said, in response to the conversation he was still a part of through his phone. He looked away and the hummed in the positive.

Cas’ head moved to the right to follow him, Dean’s eyes moved to his. “Hang. It. Up,” he mouthed, his eyes sharpened and Dean saw the intent behind it; he was not giving in, Dean wanted him to talk and so he would, phone or not.

Dean glanced to the balcony and then looked back to Cas who tilted his head, telling Dean with one twitch of his eyebrow that he’d follow him through it if he had to.

Dean turned on the spot with an audible huff and took a step forward while Cas followed him, his hand falling from the door frame, not sure what he was doing. “Ash, listen, can I call you back?” Dean said and Cas exhaled, the tension leaving his shoulders. Dean hummed and nodded. “Awesome, thanks buddy.” He lowered the phone and pressed to end the call then turned, gesturing his arms wide. “What?”

Cas shook his head. “Don’t do that. If I don’t get to-” he mimicked Dean’s groan. “Then you don’t get to talk to me like that.” He gestured behind him to the office. “You can hide in there, ignore me, be on your cell every time you leave the room so you don’t have to talk to me but don’t ‘what’ me like that.”

Dean pushed his lips out as his tongue moved over his teeth, being too stubborn to apologize he said softly, “What do you want to say?”

“I want to explain why my behavior changed-”

“You mean, why you acted like a jackass?” Dean countered.

“And why-”

“No,” Dean interrupted, shaking his head. “Say it, say you acted like a jackass.”

Cas inhaled and Dean lifted his cellphone, pressing buttons on it. Cas reached out, took it and tossed it over the back of the armchair so that it fell onto the seat. “Why I acted like a jackass and why it had nothing to do with you.”

Dean crossed his arms “Okay, I’m listening.” He shrugged towards Cas. “Go ahead.”

Cas closed his eyes, looking down. “I panicked.” He opened them but didn’t look at Dean, instead looking passed to the bottom half of the bathroom door. “Alphas can growl out of heat, they just don’t, there’s no need for it. It’s possession to ward off threats but it’s more than that. It’s claiming, sexual claiming or sexual possession too-”

Dean had been nodding as sarcastically as someone can nod and now started making nonsensical noises, making Cas look up to him.

Cas had the impression that what he was saying made as much sense as Dean’s noises implied or that Dean didn’t care about it.

“Screw other alphas,” Dean said. “Why did _you_ do it?”

Cas had wondered about that himself. “I-” he began, not sure what he was going to say.

“Don’t lie,” Dean interrupted.

“I wasn’t going to,” Cas insisted.

“You’re thinking, means you’re gonna lie.”

“No,” Cas said, “I’m trying to think why I did it but I honestly don’t know. I was just looking at your face and you moved and it happened.”

Dean looked over his face, the confusion there could not be mistaken. Why else would he act like that, unless– “Cas, do you-?” As the realization hit him Dean shifted on his feet and his arms loosened. “Did you _like_ me having _that_ on my face?”

Cas looked at him. “I- I- I-” He stopped and looked down. “I don’t know.” Dean’s eyebrows lifted. “I don’t think it was me, not consciously. I hadn’t realized I’d growled or pulled on the tie until after I’d done it.” He brought a hand to his face and Dean’s eyes lifted to it, seeing it shake.

He remembered when they’d both given in and Cas had had him against the office door. Actually he remembered after that, when he’d been standing right where he was now, watching Cas’ hand shake as he leaned on the sink.

“You’re scared,” Dean said.

Cas looked to him then away before he nodded. “How many more times will I think I’ve given up control to you?” He looked to Dean. “And it’s not about giving in, it’s about the feeling afterwards. The fear.” He inhaled and closed his eyes.

Dean reached out and took his hand, making Cas tense and try to pull away. “Stop it,” Dean said and Cas exhaled, stopped trying to move away but still not looking at him as he lowered his head. “I get it’s scary, Cas, but it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Cas said. “I keep thinking, what if I-?”

Dean shook his head. “Look at me, you won’t.” Cas shook his head. “Look at me,” Dean said, using his free hand to lift Cas’ head. His eyes moved to Dean but he inhaled hard, anxiety sitting heavily in his eyes. “It’s _me_.” He tilted his head. “Hmm?” Cas exhaled and glanced to the side before he looked back to Dean. “So, yeah, it’s okay. If you just _tell_ me that you like something we can talk about it,” he then smirked, “maybe even do something about it.” He winked. “Huh?”

Cas reluctantly smiled and looked away then back to Dean. “How can that not scare you? I’m terrified, I feel like I can hardly breathe.” He looked over Dean’s face as he shrugged. “You even look relieved.”

“Because you told me,” Dean said. “Whatever the problem was, in and out of the bedroom, if I know what it is then we can deal with it. If you pull away from me like that,” he used his right hand to point in the vague direction of the bedroom, “like that,” he then gestured to the couch, “then I got nothing. It feels like walking ten paces with not even a water-pistol and knowing that the other guy has a grenade-launcher.” He lifted his hand and gestured to Cas. “Like you were supposed to bring the water-pistol and didn’t turn up.”

He inhaled, feeling awful, but then Dean put the back of his fingers against Cas’ chest and he looked down to see Dean turn them over and place his hand there. He looked up to Dean.

“And we’re in too deep for you to be throwing me in front of a grenade-launcher.” He smiled, abashed. “Right?”

Cas smiled too and nodded. “Right,” he said and then Dean almost had his hand broken as Cas hugged him tight, trapping it in between them. “I’m sorry,” Cas said in his left ear, making Dean close his eyes. He seemed to realize he’d trapped Dean’s hand and pulled back, taking it gently in his hands. “I apologize, are you hurt?”

“No,” Dean said and Cas looked at him, letting his hand gently drop.

They smiled again and Cas made to turn away from him.

“Oh,” Dean said and Cas turned back to look at him, “and, for the future, stuff like this can’t ever have nothing to do with me. Not as long as we’re doing this.”

Cas nodded, smiling wider. “Noted,” he said.

“Let me do this with both hands,” Dean said and pulled Cas into a hug, making Cas chuckle but the grip felt tighter than usual and Cas’ smile fell.

It felt like Dean was scared of losing him but in reality Dean was glad that he hadn’t just done exactly that.

Cas closed his eyes and hugged him back, scared of losing him himself and just as equally relieved to not have already done that.

As he did he found himself wondering just what they were doing here. He wanted to ask, to start that conversation back up again but all he’d had in him had gone into resolving this and so he just gripped onto Dean and ignored the questions running through his head, for the moment.

>><< 

The end titles for season four of _Dr Sexy_ rolled and the pair, who had been leaning forward sat back. Dean turned to look at Cas, seeing him wipe his left eye.

“Are you crying?” Dean asked, scoffing.

“Yes,” Cas said and looked at Dean. “You can’t deny that you cried the first time you seen it.”

Dean scoffed again. “I- I don’t cry.” He shrugged. “Men don’t cry.”

Cas tilted his head at him. “Dean, men cry, omegas cry, alphas cry. Everyone cries. If you have tear ducts, you cry. You can be emotionally stunted but you can’t stop your tear ducts working.” He raised his eyebrow at Dean. “I can tell when you’re lying.” He smiled at Dean. “It’s me,” he said pointedly.

Dean tried not to but, as he looked ahead, he smiled and then looked to Cas. “Okay, yeah, I cried.”

Cas smiled too. “And this time?”

Dean brow dipped as if the answer was obvious. “I pushed it down and suffocated it.” Cas chuckled and he shrugged. “It’s what I do.”

Cas shook his head. “Okay, we’re watching it again.”

“What?” Dean said.

Cas pointed over him to the remote. “Give it to me,” Cas said.

Dean sighed and picked up the remote, moving to give it back to him then holding it against his chest. “You know I could just crawl over you right now and distract you?”

Cas took the remote. “And I’d just play it afterwards,” he said making Dean smirk as he looked away. “We’re going to watch this until you cry.”

“That’s some screwed up kink you got there,” Dean said as Cas maneuvered through the menus then turned his head to glare at him. “Why do you want me to cry?”

“I don’t,” Cas said and pressed play. “I want you to cry if you want to.” He smiled as settled back beside Dean.

Dean exhaled through his nose, lifted his right arm to the back of the couch and let his hand rest on Cas’ right shoulder. “It _is_ a good episode.”

Cas hummed in agreement and let his left hand fall to Dean’s leg. “Feel free to crawl over me when it’s finished,” he said and smiled when Dean chuckled, turning his head to kiss Cas’ left temple and then they turned their attention back to the screen.

The end came and Cas was sitting back, Dean sat forward.

Dr Wang grabbed Dr Piccolo around the middle as she screamed and tears streamed down her red face, the audio was replaced by _Halleluiah._ Her feet lifted from the ground and Wang’s hands gripped onto the front of her scrubs while her feet hit the ground hard, groaning with her weight. Piccolo’s bangs fell in her right eye but her left never moved from that room.

And then the screen went black before the credits rolled.

Dean sat back and Cas looked to him, he was indeed crying. Cas sat forward a little and Dean glanced to him, laughing slightly. “Shut up,” he said then lifted his right hand. “May I wipe them, your majesty?”

Cas leaned over and wiped them for him. “Thank you,” he said and wiped his hand on Dean’s jeans.

“What for?” Dean asked and sniffed.

“For doing this for me,” Cas said and Dean turned his head to look at him better. “It can’t be easy.” Dean looked down.

Cas briefly through about his childhood and conversations he and his parents had had and he exhaled through his nose, a laughter sound, and Dean looked up to him, his immediate thought that Cas was mocking him but was met with a fond smile, not aimed at Dean but a look that was far away from here.

“What?” Dean asked, moving his right hand to Cas’ thigh.

Cas opened his mouth to answer but then looked down and shook his head. “No, nothing,” he said.

“No, come on, what?” Dean nudged. “I’m vulnerable you _have_ to tell me.” Cas laughed and Dean smiled. “You had a faraway look on your face, like you got lost in a memory, what was it?”

Cas leaned his left elbow and upper arm on the arm of the couch then ran his right hand over his mouth nervously then exhaled hard as he dropped his hand and looked to Dean again. “When I was a kid Gabriel used to pull these elaborate stunts to court women. Gestures beyond belief purely to obtain phone numbers that some people wouldn’t even think of for proposals.”

“Like what?” Dean asked.

“Like stealing a car and driving across the state, like learning the guitar because she like musicians, like trying to convince the guy’s family he was ‘the real life _Doogie Howser_ ’ – whatever that means – because they wanted their son to marry a doctor.” Dean laughed. “I don’t even remember most of them. I do remember telling them all to my parents over the years, in bed on Saturdays or during our BBQs or on movie night.”

“Probably why you don’t get any references, talking all the way through them,” Dean said and they smiled at each other.

“One night, Mom said, ‘As much as we’re joking and laughing, angel, you do know that grand gestures are all well and good but if a girl’s special she’ll want you for you, right?’ And then Mama said, ‘When you find the right omega you’ll know, you won’t need to serenade them, you’ll just know.’”

“She?” Dean asked.

Cas grinned. “And I said, ‘Mom, what if I find the right boy?’ They both smiled and Mom said, ‘The right boy too.’ And then Mama leaned in and said, ‘You know, he or she can be an alpha too, right?”

“That’s how you came out?” Dean asked.

Cas nodded slowly. “I didn’t understand the full extent of what we were discussing but yes, it was.“ He pointed in the air briefly. “The one thing that no one questioned was that it would be me making the gestures, the alpha.”

“Unless you ended up with another one,” Dean said.

“Well yes,” Cas conceded. “They warned me about easy omegas-”

“Rude, but go on,” Dean interrupted.

“Aggressive alphas-”

“They have a point,” Dean said and when Cas tilted his head he smiled. “Go on.”

“They didn’t even mention betas,” Cas said. “They were amazing parents, they were deeply in love with each other, they loved me as their own flesh and blood and wanted the best for me. When they adopted me they were forced to change some perceptions they had.” He shook his head thoughtfully. “I got the impression that before me the idea of a same-presentation relationship would have greatly troubled them. I got the feeling that their relationship took a lot of getting used to, the fact that they were the same sex. Which in turn gave me the impression that they were of the old school kind of thinking.”

“You mean that betas are second-class citizens?” Dean said and Cas nodded. “Yeah, Sam got some of that growing up.”

He rubbed his face, over his stubble, as he did when he thought about the things that Sam had endured. It gave him an itch of irritation in the very center of his being that he couldn’t shake because he couldn’t change what had happened and he wished, beyond the boundaries of what was possible, that he could. And he would, in a second.

“They bullied him at school, even some of the teachers, made him do errands. Said that he didn’t need to learn anything, he would just end up being in the service industry anyway.” He tried to shrug but couldn’t. “McDonald's or one of those delivery or taxi services.” He inhaled and wiped his head to look at Cas, letting his hand fall in annoyance. “Why are there still people like that? He’s not below us just because he’s like them.”

“Them?” Cas asked.

“The people before us, the humans before we evolved.“ Cas nodded in understanding. “Why does that make betas irrelevant until they’re useful?”

“I don’t know,” Cas said. “When we were in the home,” Dean looked back to him, “we were kept apart from the others, the alphas and the expected alphas were kept in a different part of the home. All of us, we outnumbered the staff and so they would sometimes use the older beta kids to do some of the jobs because they could-”

“Go into both camps?” Dean asked and Cas nodded. “What was it like?” he asked. “Growing up surrounded by alphas?”

Cas inhaled. “Well, I hadn’t presented yet, they just expected me to. All the boys who weren’t obviously omegas are seen regularly by doctors, every month or so from the age of eleven-”

“Really?” Dean asked. “Why?”

“To try and catch puberty in the beginning, to-” Cas looked down shamefully. “To move the alphas apart quickly so that they can’t attack anyone.” Dean sighed and turned more towards Cas, putting his right arm along the couch, at a weird angle to allow for Cas’ own arm. “They had a point, it was tense all of the time. Lucifer was the worst for trying to bully the boys into-” He looked down and Dean shut his eyes. “And yet, weirdly, he would chastise the others for not listening to ‘no’.”

“Really?” Dean said. “Sounds like two different people.”

Cas nodded. “But saying no to Lucifer wasn’t easy, he would keep going, on and on, and when he didn’t get what he wanted-” Cas’ brow dipped. “Who he wanted.” He shook his head. “He made his dislike known.”

Dean tilted his head, taking in Cas’ reaction. “Cas, did he ever hurt you?”

Cas looked up to Dean’s face. “No,” he said. “Lucifer liked weakness, he manipulated the other alphas and the expected, but that was playing compared to the physical and emotional torture he unleashed on the omegas. He turned his nose up at the betas. They were safe at least.”

Dean lifted his right hand to the side of Cas’ face. “Then I’m glad you’re an alpha,” he said softly.

Cas looked at him for a second and then swallowed, trying to shake the unexpected sidetrack they’d taken. “Anyway, my parents warned me about a lot, easy omegas, aggressive alphas, frigid betas if you can believe it.”

“Wow,” Dean said.

“But they never warned me about men who would cry for me,” he said with a smile.

Dean looked at his smile and looked away, letting a smile spread on his own face, feeling it heat up, and laughed gently, closing his eyes too.

“When I went to college they warned me that someone – mostly beats – would try and get me to take pills,” Dean looked at him, “but not the ones who would stop taking them for me.”

Dean pursed his lips together, trying not to smile. “Wasn’t just for you.”

Cas shrugged. “I’m counting it.”

That made Dean laugh and then shook his head before he looked to Cas again. “Have I told you how I came out?” Cas shook his head. “It was after my dad’s funeral. It was a small thing, he didn’t exactly have many friends. Me, Sam, Bobby, some other hunters, some kid called Aidan or something that no one knew. Sam and me, we’ve never been good at talking-”

“I am shocked,” Cas said.

Dean smiled and exhaled a chuckle. “He was just a kid but he was a giant, he always passed for older so we went to a bar and got wasted. Chucking out time and no cabs would take us because some asshole had decided to start on us like an hour before and I had blood on my shirt. Anyway, we started walking, I was scared that Bobby would go crazy if he seen Sam drunk and call up social services and send him back so I thought we’d walk home and Sam would sober up a bit. Dumb plan but it made sense at the time.” Dean shifted on the couch. “Anyway, we walked for an hour and we finally get to Bobby’s house but Sam was still awkward on his feet and he didn’t want to go in, he was scared like me, so we didn’t.”

“Where’d you go?”

“Well, my dad’s car was at Bobby’s, legally it was still in police custody but they’d parked it at Bobby’s because it’d needed towed and Bobby had a scrapyard so.” He shrugged. “We decided to sleep in the car but I refused, I made him wait to see if he was gonna hurl or not. So, we just sat on the hood, side by side – like when we were kids – and looked up at the stars. We told stories and then it’d all gone silent. I remember thinking that I never wanted to be apart from him again, I had spent my entire life on the edge of his, my own brother, who I practically raised, and I never wanted that to happen again. Now, there was no one keeping us apart and no one to protect him from, I could just be his big brother.” He smiled. “And I didn’t want to hide anything from him, I didn’t want to just keep being who dad wanted me to be. So I said I had something to tell him.” Dean shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve seen genuine concern appear on his face that quick except when we were worried about what Dad would do. I didn’t want to see that anymore so I didn’t drag it out, I just said, ‘Sam, I swing both ways.’ There was this beat of silence and I remember feeling absolutely terrified of what he was going to say. In that moment my brother both hated and loved me, knew me and didn’t.”

Dean didn’t say anything and Cas felt stupid for worrying, he’d seen them together and knew that they worked together but maybe it had taken years for that to happen, he had no idea.

“And then he just started laughing,” Dean said with a smile. “It wasn’t cruel laughter it was relief. He said he was worried I was going to say that I was taking off. I was scared that he wouldn’t love me anymore and he was terrified that I was just going to leave him, both of them as unlikely as the other. I laughed with him because I’d shared the part of my soul that had cost me the most at that time, the one thing – besides my love for Sam – that my dad had punished me the most for, and Sam had been relieved.”

They looked at each other, smiling.

“Sam sounds great,” Cas said.

“He is,” Dean said with a nod and then tilted his head. “I mean, I practically raised him.”

“He didn’t stand a chance,” Cas said.

“Exactly,” Dean agreed. “So, uh, what gestures did little Cas make to his male ‘doesn’t have to be an omega’ targets?”

“Targets?” Cas repeated with a raised eyebrow.

“Boyfriends then,” Dean corrected.

Cas exhaled. “I didn’t,” he said with a shrug.

“So, how did you end up with that poor guy on his knees?”

“Ah,” Cas said and laughed. “He was in the dorm next to mine and he was the only other one who smoked so we used to sneak out, behind the lavatories or into the dugout to smoke. And he made a move on me.”

“Really?” Dean said.

Cas nodded. “What about you?” cas asked. “What gestures did you receive or make?”

Dean’s smile dropped fast. “Uh, no,” he said. “I was moving around a lot, I didn’t get a chance to- You know.

“Wait,” Cas said. “Are you telling me that no one ever hit on you?”

“Well, I hung around with my old man in bars so I wasn’t looking at guys if I could help it, and with him there they certainly weren’t looking at me. Most of ‘em were old and drunks anyway. The chicks were all after my dad, I was just a kid.”

“No one?” Cas asked, disbelieving. “No one ever followed you to the toilet or in school or-”

“Just one,” he aid and pursed his lips together.

Cas realized who he meant: Benny.

“What about when you were older?”

“I had a few numbers written on my napkins but I just wanted to do my job,” Dean said. “I was raised to believe that we didn’t have time for all of that so I disarmed and moved on.”

Cas thought about that seventeen year old in his car and then in his bed. He thought about the twenty-something following him down the aisles in the garage, cornering him in the stockroom.

He sat up in shock and turned to look at Dean’s searching gaze. “Oh my god,” he said.

“What?” Dean asked, his brow tensing in confusion.

“That’s-” He mouth fell open. “That’s why you crawled over me, why you kept trying. That’s why you got me in the aisle-”

“I have no idea what you’re-”

“That’s all the experience you'd had with being hit on, wasn’t it? From Benny and porn.”

Dean opened his mouth, obviously embarrassed. “I mean, maybe-”

“That and giving someone your number,” Cas said.

“I was in heat the first time we met, I could hardly say, ‘hey, can I have your number?’ And that would have _really_ worked in the garage, huh.”

“Why not?” Cas asked. “You didn’t even try, you could have said, ‘We haven’t seen each other in years, would you like to grab a drink?’ Why couldn’t you have tried that?”

“Because,” Dean said.

“Because what?”

“Because that’s not what people see when they look at me, Cas!” He sighed. “I’m an omega, I’m supposed to bend over or spread ‘em and be thankful. And I’m a hunter, I lived for my job. I’m not someone you make gestures for unless it’s someone cocking their head to the backdoor.” He shrugged. “Even if I’d known how to come onto someone like a normal person I wouldn’t have. Normal doesn’t apply to me.” He looked down.

Cas moved his left arm along the couch, over Dean’s and put his hand to his face. Dean looked up as he leaned in and kissed him.

“You’re normal,” Cas said, “you’re not  _just_ normal.” He smiled. “You’re so much more.” He kissed him again and then turned, looking at the DVD menu. “Shall we watch the next one?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean said, frozen to the spot.

Cas got up from the couch and moved to the DVD player to change the disc. He sat back down and pressed play, settling back beside Dean and watching the first episode of the next season.

After twenty minutes Dean realized that he hadn’t been watching it, too wrapped up in what Cas had said.

As if Cas knew that he chose that moment to ask, without looking away from the TV, “Are you alright, baby?”

“Yeah,” Dean croaked and knew exactly what he wanted. “C’mere,” he said and when Cas turned to look at him he leaned toward him and kissed him, putting his left hand on Cas’ right arm. When Dean continued kissing him Cas turned his torso towards him. It was at this moment Dean felt a surge of lust bolt through him unexpectedly and he pushed Cas back on the couch, moving Cas’ left leg against his hip.

Cas hummed, lifting his hands up, one to Dean’s neck and the other to his hip. Dean’s right hand ran up Cas’ side, deliberately rucking his t-shirt up and away from his skin so that he could touch him.

As quickly as the lust came it was gone and he was filled with the knowledge that, while he didn’t want this to stop, he didn’t want take this any further.

Dean suddenly broke away and looked down.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” Cas said and Dean looked up to him, pursing his lips together.

“I- I started this and now I’m not-”

“Dean, we don’t have to have sex every time we kiss,” he said.

“No?” Dean asked.

“No,” Cas replied. “That’s not what I’m here for,” he added and then kissed Dean.

Dean felt confused; wasn’t that exactly what he was there for?

He used his right hand on the back of the couch and his left on the cushion beside Cas’ head to hold himself up as they continued to kiss with a leisurely pace.

“Have we ever not had sex or an act of some description?” Dean asked, wondering if he’d missed the memo.

Cas kissed him then looked at him. “The first day, we made out right here.”

Dean smiled. “Oh yeah,” he said and leaned down to kiss him “after you had your way with me over there.” He gestured his head to the corner and Cas nodded before they kissed again and Dean broke away, laughing. “Man, you were _mad_.”

Cas smiled. “Yes, I was. But with myself, and I took it out on you. I apologize.”

“Don’t,” Dean said. “It got us here.” He inhaled and then smiled. “Besides, you’re hot as hell when you’re angry.” He kissed Cas’ neck and he chuckled. “Hey, I have a question, if you don’t make friends easily-” He kissed Cas on the lips. “Then who is your cop friend who ran my number plate?”

Cas paused and then chuckled, knowing he’d been caught out. “Ah,” he said. “Well, he’s not my friend per say.”

Dean raised his eyebrow. “Not the guy from the camp?”

“No,” Cas said with a chuckle. “My old boss, at the garage, her boyfriend works traffic and you are bad at parking legally.”

Dean laughed. “I don’t always have the time when I spot a bounty run down an alley. And you lied!”

“No, not really,” Cas defended. “I’ve babysat for them before and they trust me so when I told her about you she made him trace you.”

“You told her about me?” Dean asked.

“She asked what was up,” Cas said and when Dean’s brow twitched in confusion Cas swallowed. “I was in a bit of a mess after all of that happened. You only seen the end of it.” He looked to the side, embarrassed.

Dean turned his head back to look at him and kissed him on the lips. “I drank myself into a mess after it,” he whispered against his lips and then cleared his throat and spoke as if he’d never said it, “That’s a long way to go to trace me.” He grinned. “You’re a stalker.”

“Oh yeah?” Cas said with a laugh and Dean bit his lip and nodded. “You got my cell number from your cop buddy, you abused your position.”

Dean smirked. “Well, in my defense, I really wanted to abuse _your_ position.” They laughed. “What can I say, when a guy flat out rejects me then sleeps with me before showing up to shout at me before round two I just get all tingly.”

Cas ‘eyes moved between Dean’s. “I didn’t reject you,” he said.

“I didn’t mean-” Dean started.

“No, I meant that I didn’t reject _you_. I didn’t reject _Dean_. I rejected sex and conforming to what society wanted me to be.”

“Do you ever regret it?” Dean asked.

Cas nudged back in the pillow. “No,” he said and looked over Dean’s face. “How could I regret this?”

He kissed Dean knowing that while he’d said ‘this’ the word ‘us’ had hovered on his tongue.

Us, like Dean had said, give _us_ a try.

But instead, he kissed Dean, he held Dean and he let them remain separate for now, not actually sure they even were. Or ever had been.

 

It had barely been twenty minutes when a great heaviness washed over Dean and he had to pull from the kiss.

His face was complete concern and that passed onto Cas’ own face.

“Dean, are you well?”

“I-” Dean exhaled; he felt ridiculously tired, as if he’d ran all the way here from the bunker. “I need-” He stopped, managing to look even more confused before he continued, “I’m sorry, don’t take this the wrong way but I think I need a nap.”

Cas’ eyebrows raised and he nodded. “Oh- Okay, go and sleep then.”

Dean nodded as he clambered to his feet then stumbled away to the bedroom. Cas sat up, watching him and then exhaled through his nose.

He got a snack and watched daytime TV, his mind inadvertently moving to Dean and what he’d said. Why couldn’t he let it go?

His parents had instilled in him the idea that alphas had to make the moves on the omega, to make the kind of romantic gestures that came before a soul-bond. He and Dean were never going to bond - that was obvious to anyone – but the idea that no one, besides Benny, had ever made him feel special, that grated on him like an injustice.

He walked out onto the balcony as Dean slept soundly and thought about the stories his parents had told him about their childhoods and watched the day become night.

When Dean awoke the bedroom was dark and he seriously had no idea who, where or when he was. He stumbled into the equally dark living room with his eyes closed just like he did every day. Cas watched him from the balcony with a fascinated expression as he crossed to the bathroom without really being aware that Cas was there.

Being so disorientated Dean staggered to the toilet bowl and decided to sit down to pee. When he’d finished he washed his face and walked out, a little more steady on his feet, but stopped abruptly in the doorway as he was met with Cas’ appearance. Cas had put the living room lamps on but that just worked towards waking Dean up.

“Hey,” Cas said, “good nap?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean replied.

“Come outside,” Cas said, and when Dean looked through the window he saw something that made him question if he was in fact awake or not: out there on the balcony was a couple of pillows against the window, two blankets (one on top of the other) a bottle of scotch and two empty glasses. There was a smell in the air that Dean was too tired to try and figure out.

“What’s this?” Dean asked and looked at Cas who smiled and gestured his head to the window, hoping that this time Dean wouldn’t mind someone trying to get him outside with a tilt of his head. Dean hesitated before he went through the window and turned when Cas followed him through. “Seriously, what’s this?”

Cas looked at him. “This is what a gesture looks like when it isn’t fueled by sex,” he said. “Do you want to look up at the stars with me?”

Dean slowly smiled. “You are such a girl.”

“I can assure you I’m not,” Cas said as he leaned down to pull the blankets apart, then climbed into them. “Come on.” He fixed the pillow behind him then picked up the scotch bottle, lifting one of the glasses. “You know you want to.” He poured it then held it out.

Dean hesitated before he reached out for it and looked from it to Cas who smiled at him and poured his own drink. Cas held the cover open for him as he got in beside him then flicked it over his lap.

“What brought this on?” Dean asked while Cas put the bottle back down and they leaned against the window. Dean turned his head briefly, wondering if it’d taken their weight and then turned back, deciding there was only one way to find out.

“I wanted you to experience a genuine romantic gesture,” he said and then held out his drink.

Dean toasted with him and they looked to the sky as they each took a drink.

“A romantic gesture?” Dean repeated and looked at his glass when Cas hummed in the affirmative. “You’re making a romantic- Your _first_ romantic gesture to me?” He then looked at Cas, disbelief or distrust on his face. Cas couldn’t place it but it didn’t look happy, in fact it looked sad.

“I even cooked dinner,” Cas said, wondering if he’d done something wrong.

Dean nodded slightly to himself; that’s what the smell inside had been.

He then looked down, his face twitching in pain. “What’s on the menu?”

“Cheeseburgers and p-” Cas stopped when Dean nodded but looked out as if avoiding his gaze.

“Burgers and pie, because you’re leaving tomorrow,” Dean said.

Cas looked down to the glass in his hand while Dean looked up at the stars. He felt like he should say something, bring them back to the interrupted conversation that almost had about where this could go if they even considered taking a chance.

But before he even tried to open his mouth to talk Dean had decided to fill the silence and enjoy the little time they had.

“So, if dinner is made why are we sitting here letting it get cold?” he asked.

“The pie is cooling but the burgers have a few more minutes,” Cas responded.

“Ah,” Dean said and nodded.

“Would you spend those few minutes watching the Earth turn with me?” Cas said and Dean turned to look at him as he lifted his left arm over Dean’s head and pulled him close around the shoulders.

Dean smiled. “Are you coming onto me?”

Cas smiled too. “Well, we’ve had sex, shared meals and intimate parts of who we are.” He paused to look in Dean’s eyes. “I think I’m allowed to graduate to flirtation.” He tilted his head. “Is it unwanted?”

Dean looked away for a second then back to him and shook his head. “No, Cas,” he said. “No, it’s-”

And then Dean realized that he’d forgotten something.

“Oh, the sauce!” he said and scrambled to his feet, spilling a couple of drops of his drink as he squeezed himself in the window.

He left Cas with his left arm in the air, his right tightening on his drink and his face confused. He slowly stood and followed him inside, taking more consideration over his drink.

“What sauce?” he said as he found Dean in the kitchen pulling various jars out of the fridge and cupboard.

“A couple of months ago I was messing around, trying to imitate a sauce I’d had a dive bar in Tennesse and I made something even better. You’re gonna love it.”

“I’ll set the table,” Cas said and opened the oven to check the burgers before turning the oven off. He readied everything onto plates while Dean made the sauce. “Water?” he asked.

“Yeah, thanks,” Dean said as Cas took two bottles out of the refrigerator.

He put his and Dean’s scotches on the table, ran off to get the bottle, bringing the pillows and blankets in the window too, and then replaced it on the counter. He opened a drawer, took out paper napkins and put them on the table before he turned and took the tray out of the oven.

Dean glanced. “I didn’t even know I had napkins,” he said.

Cas smiled as he walked back to where he’d dumped the blankets and pillows on the floor at the window and folded them as he put them on the window seat.

Dean moved his jar of sauce close to the burgers and twisted to see Cas pressing his hand to the top pillow then turn back to him. “Sorry,” he said and Cas’ eyes went to his as he approached. “I ruined your flirtation.”

Cas smiled as he stopped beside him. “I guess I’ll have to settle for getting you drunk instead.”

“I’ve heard drunk sex is great,” Dean said.

Cas hummed and looked at him. “Really?”

Dean looked back. “So, I’ve heard,” he said. “Here,” he said and took some of the sauce on a spoon, “take this.”

When Cas put his hand out Dean withdrew the spoon. “You taste with your lips not your hand,” he said and gestured his head to the side, indicating Cas to come closer.

“Actually,” Cas said and stepped into Dean’s space, “you _taste_ … With your _tongue_.”

“Really?” Dean said and his eyes drifted over Cas’ expression as he smiled and nodded at Dean. “Well here…” He held out the spoon and when Cas opened his mouth Dean watched him. “Use your tongue.”

Cas smiled as he took some of the sauce in his mouth and swirled it around his mouth. They kept eye contact until Dean’s eyes dropped to Cas’ lips.

The sauce was the right amounts of thick and spicy – perfect for a burger.

“What do you think?” His tongue poked out.

Cas’ eyes went to the movement and he couldn’t help but smile before he said, “Yes, it’s good.” He rubbed his lips together, tasting the last of it.

Dean’s smile fell. “You hate it,” he said.

“No!” Cas said and put his hand out as he laughed. “No, baby, I like it, I do. I was just thinking-”

“What?” Dean asked, smiling as he looked at Cas smiling too. “What were you thinking about?” he asked, a grin in his voice.

“I was thinking…” He looked in Dean’s eyes. “That it is ironic that you’ve only been with one person and yet everything you say drips with sex.”

“This isn’t sexual,” Dean said and looked in Cas’ eyes, moving a little closer to him. “This is intimate.” Cas’ eyes sharpened and then Dean’s demeanor became flippant. “If you read sex into it maybe it says more about you.” He grinned. “Than me.”

Cas’ smile widened too. “Maybe it does.”

“C’mon,” Dean said, “before everything goes cold.”

Neither of them noticed how they’d crossed over each other to sit in their usual seats or that Cas hadn’t asked Dean how he wanted his burger because he’d known.

 

As they ate neither said anything for a few moments, they shared lingering looks and smiles, sometimes they turned into huffed laughs and they looked away from each other, rosy cheeked and neither understanding why.

Cas could barely stand it anymore and decided to break the silence and put his burger down before he brushed his hands together. “So,” Dean looked at him, “until you ruined it, how was I doing?”

Dean smiled wider and laughed before he nodded. “Yeah, you were doing good,” he said.

“Yes?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, if we were in the dugout you might get lucky again,” he said and Cas laughed. “Or maybe under the bleachers.”

“That’s all it takes?” Cas asked. “I made you wait for six years and you give it up for a blanket and drink?”

Dean opened his mouth in shock but when Cas laughed he couldn’t help but laugh too. “Don’t flatter yourself,” Dean said, playing along. “Maybe if you were a jock, the mathletes have to work for it.”

“As if I could have ever gotten a cheerleader, with or without alcohol, even if I had been a jock,” Cas said, taking a drink of his water.

“A cheerleader?” Dean said and put his hand to his chest. “You think I was a cheerleader?”

“Then what group were you in?”

Dean cleared his throat as his smile fell. “Actually, I was always the new kid in the leather jacket, the one with the attitude and mysterious backstory. Before it was cool. Before they ruined it with vampires. We never really stuck around long enough for me to be in any group. I think Sam was one of the weird genius kids. You know, they’re not close enough to puberty to be the mysterious stranger yet so now they’re stuck with the label of ‘nerd’.”

Dean noticed that Cas was trying not to laugh.

“What?” he asked. “He was! I was there to protect him though, rode in on my white charger to save the day.”

Cas shook his head. “No, it’s not that. It’s-” He looked to the side as he smiled and then tried to pull it together. “I can’t.”

“You have to tell me,” Dean said. “I have ways to get you to talk,” he said and grinned before lifting his scotch to his lips.

Cas looked over him. “Okay. You remember the boy who got stuck on my knot?”

Dean exhaled a laugh when he had his drink to his lips and blew some of it out of his glass. He wiped his face as he nodded. “Yeah,” he said and looked to where his drink had spilled on the table. “Yeah, I remember. What about him?”

Cas smiled, looking at Dean, then looked down to the table. “Well, no one knew him. He was dropped off two hours late on the back of a _Harley_ which didn’t hang around. He lit a cigarette and stood watching us for a few minutes then one of the staff walked to him and brought him to the group. He had one of the most gorgeous black leather jackets I’ve ever seen and he barely said a word that wasn’t sarcastic and left before the end of the session. He forgot his _Motorhead_ t-shirt when he left.” He shrugged his shoulders.

Dean considered him for a minute. “How did you get that guy on his knees in the dugout?”

Cas smirked. “Baby…” He paused. “I wasn’t trying to, I just wanted a smoke.” He lifted his drink to his lips and downed the drink.

“You’re not gonna tell me?” Cas shrugged. “I will get that story.”

Cas smiled. “I'm sure you will.”

“So you have a type,” he said and Cas laughed. Dean dipped his left hand under the table, gripping Cas’ thigh. “Wish I’d went to your high school.”

“You’re four years younger than me, I’m pretty sure that would’ve been illegal,” Cas said.

“I’m pretty sure when you were in that dugout you were still underage,” Dean said.

Cas hummed in agreement as he took a drink. “But we were the same age,” Cas pointed out.

They continued to eat until the burgers were finished and they sat back, exhaling hard as they both reached for their drinks.

Cas thought back to the look on Dean’s face when they’d discussed dinner and he wondered if it disappointment or if he was becoming disillusioned with what they were doing.

“Do you think we’ll ever get bored with…?” As Dean looked to him he lost his courage. “With burgers and pie?” He unconsciously nodded his head to the corner of the room, to the window sill.

Dean turned and looked to see a pie on a cooling rack, cooling by the window. He turned back to Cas. “I have a cooling rack?” he asked.

“It was in the drawer under the oven,” Cas explained.

Dean turned to look at his cooker. “There’s a drawer under my cooker?”

Cas’ eyes narrowed. “How long have you lived here?”

Dean looked back to him and tried to think. “No idea, couple of years. It lay empty for a while after Jess died. To tell you the truth, it still feels like Sam’s apartment. I like it, it’s comfortable, and-” His eyes moved to Cas’ and he hesitated, his eyes narrowing a little. “Can I say something that’ll sound…?” He forcefully exhaled while he thought of the right word. “Weird and sad and totally unattractive.”

“You can tell me anything, Dean,” Cas assured, completely seriously, and put his drink down, leaning into him to give him his complete attention.

“Well,” Dean said, still hesitant. “My childhood revolved around my dad’s vendetta. We didn’t have a childhood really, me and Sam were baggage that my dad had to drag around until we were old enough to be his backup. Sam was really the only thing that kept me sane, he was the reason that I went back. Then I met Benny and he was where I’d run to- I’d never had somewhere to run to before. I ran away, I came back, I never ran _to_. He always told me that my dad was a loser, that Sammy was holding me back, that family did nothing for you but use you, hurt you and leave you. It was what I needed to hear at the time, when I’d just ran away and turned up at his door. I ran away before my first heat because I was too embarrassed to be around them; I didn’t know much but I knew enough to know it wasn’t something I wanted them to be a part of.”

“You didn’t stay with Benny?” Cas asked.

“I didn’t know it was coming, we’d planned to go to his dad's cabin, it was in the middle of nowhere, it’d be just us.” He closed his eyes and shook his head once. “I was stuck between not wanting to be reliant on him for a week and never wanting anyone to see me or be close enough to attack me. I thought about getting a motel room, some neutral ground, but we never got that far. It came out of the blue while I was waiting for Sam outside of his school. I ran to a callbox but Benny was working so I-” He stopped and looked down.

“It’s okay,” Cas said and put his hand on Dean’s. “Stop talking.”

Dean chuckled once. “Got way off course.”

“You were telling me about the apartment.” Dean nodded. “Something unattractive.”

Dean smiled again. “Right,” he said. “Well, when-” He swallowed and looked up to Cas again. “When we were growing up, if I didn’t get it Sam didn’t get it. Food, clothes, school books. Dad didn’t care about anything that didn’t help hunting. But then Sam grew up. He got his own food, his own clothes, his own books.” He sighed. “I never see him anymore.”

“I thought you worked cases together?”

“We do. But from the minute we hook up we’ve clocked in. We don’t talk or chill out. He might turn up for a pizza every three months but even that hasn’t happened in a long time. We used to watch _Game of Thrones_ together…”

Dean remembered his dream, running through a town, away from Amara. He knew it had seemed familiar somehow but he’d been a bit distracted by swinging a bat to notice.

“It’s been so long since we got together to do that that I-” He shrugged his shoulders. “I watched the last season by myself.” Cas tried to show sympathy on his face. “Which sounds dumb-” Cas shook his head. “But I feel like I’m not in his life anymore and maybe that’s another reason why I don’t want to tell him about this-” He took Cas’ hand, making Cas look to it in shock. “He’s the closest thing I’m ever gonna have to a son and yet he doesn’t even feel like my brother anymore.” He tilted his head and looked away while Cas looked back up to him. “I like living here, in Sam’s apartment, because I get to fool myself that I’m still in his life.” He gave a short chuckle that betrayed how embarrassed he felt.

“That’s not weird or sad,” Cas said.

“It’s not?” Dean asked.

“No, it’s really sweet,” Cas said. “A little heartbreaking, but not unfixable.” He squeezed Dean’s hand. “You just have to take a chance, talk about it.”

They looked at each other and Dean nodded before Cas looked away, feeling scared of where the conversation could go. As much as he knew they both had to have thought about their own situation there was still the fear that the conversation would not go how he wanted it to and they’d walk away from each other.

“I notice you didn’t mention unattractive,” Dean said.

Cas looked to him and smiled before reaching out for his glass. “I didn’t?” he asked coyly and took a drink.

“No,” Dean said and Cas hummed, taking another drink. “So is it?”

Cas tried not to smile as he looked to Dean. “Is it what?”

Dean leaned forward, letting his tongue poke out and wet his lips, Cas watching it and then looking up to his eyes. “Are you still attracted to me?” Dean asked, his voice low.

It was evident from his face that he delighted in asking the question and Cas expected nothing less.

Cas hesitated, looking at Dean, before he put his glass down on the table and looked down as he moved his chair closer to Dean’s. He lifted his left hand and beckoned with his index finger. Dean wasn’t sure they could get much closer but it was a foregone conclusion that he’d do just about anything to be closer to this man and so he leaned in anyway.

Cas looked over his face and for a second Dean wondered if he were going to kiss him but instead he just let his eyes slowly drag over Dean’s face, taking in each part. Dean was halfway convinced that this was his answer and the way it made him shiver told him it was a good answer.

But then Cas leaned into Dean’s left ear, his body heat made Dean close his eyes and inhale shallowly. Cas lifted his left hand and let the tip of his index finger tickle over the side of Dean’s ear and then down to where it met his jawline.

The smell of meat and scotch intensified in those few seconds that felt like hours to Dean and he wasn’t complaining. He had no idea how one simple question had ended up here but he was simultaneously convinced he knew the answer and completely unsure.

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” he said in Dean’s ear and Dean couldn’t help smile and tilted his head against Cas’ who did the same.

As Cas pulled back he stayed close to Dean and they stopped, their noses within an inch from each other. Cas leaned to the left and kissed him, his right hand moving to cup Dean’s head. Dean’s left hand stroked up Cas’ left leg as they kissed again, softly and slowly. When they pulled back that time it was within a whisper of each other.

Cas couldn’t take it anymore; those words that Dean had found the courage to say had been echoing in his head since he’d said them. Dean had taken that step and it wasn’t the first time either, Cas remembered kissing him to get him to stop talking, and then he’d taken back his words.

He knew that if he wanted this to go further it was his turn and yet the idea that they had to say it out loud seemed laughable to him. He thought it was just him but he could feel it in the way that Dean kissed him, touched him; he could see it in the way Dean looked at him, reacted to him. It was as plain as the nose on Dean’s face, the one that was now nudging his gently.

It was so laughable that Cas actually did laugh, looking down.

Dean pulled back enough to see him better. “What’s funny?” he asked.

Cas pressed his top teeth into the middle of his bottom lip and looked back up to Dean, his hand stroking his jawline. He shook his head twice and then tilted it to look at him. “This…” He briefly let his teeth press into his lip again and then released it. “This isn’t about just getting through heats together anymore, is it?” He tried to purse his lips together but a smile broke through.

Dean suddenly felt anxiety; not at Cas’ words because how could he argue and he had been expecting something since he’d tried to talk to him – in fact he was starting to think Cas would never bring it up – but his anxiety was because he had a fear that something else was going to interrupt them. He resolved in that moment that he didn’t care if God himself was going to knock at the front door, he was not passing this chance up again.

And Cas had smiled.

He had smiled and it was one of the most beautiful things Dean thought he’d ever seen.

And so Dean smiled too. “No,” he said and shook his head. “No, it’s not.”

“What is it then?” Cas asked, both of them looking around briefly, wondering when they’d be interrupted.

Dean opened his mouth: what he was he supposed to say to that? That was the problem they’d been having; there was something there but neither knew what.

“Something,” Dean said.

“Something,” Cas repeated and then nodded, it would be about as close to an answer as he’d ever gotten. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I’ve tried to find a word for it, as have you. We know how we feel but neither of us knows what to label it as. So, something sounds like as far as we’re going to get right now.” He smiled. “It says a lot to me.” He then considered Dean, his smile falling. “But if you need a more specific label then we can-”

Dean shook his head. “No,” he said. “I don’t need a label…” He swallowed. “Right now.”

“Right now?” Cas asked. “Implying that you will need one in the future?”

“I might,” Dean said. “Is that okay with you, that this might possibly need to be revisited in the future?” He looked down, feeling like he wasn’t wording it well.

Cas tipped his chin up and kissed him. “It is very okay.”

Dean smiled and kissed him again.

>><< 

They dug into the pie, talking and smiling like idiots. If anyone had asked later what exactly they had talked about Dean might have been about to pinpoint a story about Gabriel bringing a spank book back to the home and Cas would have picked out a tale of the time Dean was shot in the thigh, by a bullet meant for his father.  
  
But what they really remembered was in bed that night. They'd talked all the way into the bathroom and did a coordinated shuffle around, taking turns washing their faces, brushing their teeth and peeing. They then walked into the living room; Cas locked the window and checked the TV was off while Dean locked the apartment and ran to check that the office was in darkness. Then they walked into the bedroom together, stripped and climbed into bed.

"But it wasn't me!" Dean said, laughing.

"That was so you!" Cas argued as the lay side by side on their backs.

"Nu-uh," Dean said.

"Uh, yu-huh!" Cas argued.

This made Dean laugh which in turn made Cas chuckle.

"Alright, I farted," Dean said.

"I know you did," Cas said.

"Too," Dean added.

"No!"

Dean just laughed, and sighed happily.

Cas pushed his lips out. "Can... I ask you something?"

"Course, shoot,"

"I vaguely remember you used to wear a necklace," Cas said and Dean's smile fell, turning his head to look at him. "What happened to it?"

Dean was silent: his immediate reaction was to play it down, deny deny DENY.

"It was distinctive. I haven't asked because I've been worried you'd take off."

"What makes you think I still won't?"

"Something," Cas said.

Dean smiled to himself. "Sam gave me that, when we were kids. He'd gotten it for Dad for Christmas. When dad turned up after New Year he was drunk and mean and beat us both."

Cas took Dean's hand and closed his eyes, wishing it hadn't happened.

"He passed out and I got Sam to bed, cleaned up, then got him ready for school in the morning. He woke in the night to the sounds of me..." Dean inhaled. "Holding my dad over the can so he could vomit without choking himself to death. Then he-" Dean chuckled bitterly. "He punched me."

"Your dad?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "Holding him up, saying it'll be okay, tryna wipe vomit from his chin and he punches me across the room." He cleared his throat. "The next morning I took Sam to school and he handed me the necklace. I said he should wait, give it to Dad but he said he wanted me to have it." Dean smiled. "When- What happened happened I was convinced I couldn't go back. How could I look him in the eye after what I'd done?" He put a hand up when Cas inhaled, ready to argue. "What I'd felt like I'd done." He looked down as Cas relaxed. "I stopped wearing it, haven't since."

Cas' brow dipped and then looked at him. "Why?"

"Well, because-" He shrugged. "Because I didn't-" He looked away.

Cas turned on the bed, leaning up on his left elbow and looked down at him. "You didn't think you deserved to wear it."

Dean looked at him, wondering how they got from screwing for a week to this dork knowing him better than Dean had ever imagined wanting someone to know him.

He shrugged. "Maybe. I mean, I still don't get why he gave me it."

"Dean," Cas leaned to him as he put his hand on Dean's torso, "he gave you it because he realized something which he probably already knew: he had a father but you were his dad." Dean looked away, confused and head spinning. "Not only that but you were so much more. You took care of him, you protected him - even from your own father - and then, while he was sleeping, you took care of the man who didn't even stop to see if you were okay when that bullet hit you. The man beat you on numerous occasions and you were holding him up so he didn't choke on his own vomit. And then he punched you for it!"

"It wasn't like that," Dean said. "I was too in his face, he didn't need my help."

Cas closed his eyes and inhaled then exhaled before he opened them and spoke again, "He beat on Sam for outgrowing his pants, Dean. You ran away when your heat was coming because you didn't feel safe, you didn't feel like you had support."

"I know but-"

"But what? What could possibly be worth that 'but'?" Cas asked, angrily.

"But he was my dad, Cas," Dean said, softly. "My mom died so I clung onto him. Or the old him, the idea that he was still under there. That I just did as I was told maybe he’d come back. She died and I had no one to pick me up and say it was gonna be okay. From the second he handed me Sammy and told me to get out the house that's who I was. I was the one to help, to share the load. And outside, the fire service were all around, the neighbors, news guys... Dad held Sammy and I sat there, on the side, an afterthought. A bencher waiting to be tagged in." He shrugged. "Sammy needed me, he needed me to watch over him. Dad felt guilty, over Mom's death, he tried to get the people who did it, for revenge but I think also for closure. I think he felt guilty, that he was part of that world, that he'd been asleep in front of the TV. Sammy needed watched over, and sometimes Dad needed that too but I think what he really needed was forgiveness. And I could do that,” he nodded, “whether it was for smacking me, for throwing up, for leaving me for hours in the freezing cold holding Sammy wrapped up in my jacket."

“Who watched over you?” Cas asked.

Dean looked at him. "My mom used to say that angels were watching over me," Dean said and smiled. "I used to spend all that time I was cleaning up or lying awake or whenever thinking about her and what life woulda been like if she'd been there. Sam says I've got her on a pedestal but she was my idea of..." He shrugged. "Salvation. Like she was the only way someone was gonna come along, grab me, and pull me from that hell. So maybe I have kinda warped her in my head as something too perfect but..." He smiled at Cas. "She's my mom."

Cas smiled too. "I can understand that." He thought about it. "Did it go the other way?"

Dean hesitated, thinking. "Did what go the other way?"

"Well, you turned your mom into something heaven-sent. Did you turn Sam into a helpless kid, frozen that way forever?"

Dean chuckled nervously. "No, that would be dumb." He turned towards Cas. "Let's have sex." He kissed his neck.

Cas laughed and leaned back, holding his hand out to gently push Dean back. "Dean?"

Dean sighed and leaned back enough to see him better. "Okay, maybe I still see him as a goofy kid but in my defense he still is! He's not even twenty!"

"Right," Cas said, "and he's been in law school, has a full time FRA license, has had a long term girlfriend, experienced a tragic childhood and a devastating loss as well as at least two near death experiences." Dean thought about that, the images of pulling him from the most recent fire. "He's a precocious teenager," Cas said. "But a grown man too."

Dean smiled and nodded. "Yeah, but he'll always be my kid br-" Ge exhaled. "My kid."

"Yeah," Cas said, "and I don't think that's just on your side."

"What d'you mean?"

"Dean, you had to stand on the balcony and wave to him to show you were okay. When you drink does he get concerned and say something?"

"Oh my god, all the time!" Dean said. "He ruins every drink I have with his eyebrows."

Cas smiled, air escaping his nose fast in what was almost a laugh. "Yes well, think about what he associates with alcohol, baby. Both of you getting beaten, then you holding your dad over the toilet bowl."

Dean looked to Cas and then sat up, pushing his hips back. "He's always worried I've got a drinking problem. I can't have one drink but he's asking me what's wrong or how much I'm gonna have."

Cas looked to the bed quickly then to Dean. "Dean, after I was adopted my parents told me something that make everything click into place and make sense. I was always sitting there, year after year, watching all these other kids get adopted and be replaced. Then it would be repeated. And I thought there was something wrong with me. My own mother chose drugs over me in two ways - when she used while pregnant and when she left me. And then every potential family I saw come and go, even the fosterers I had to endure, they brought me back. And I become hard and distant, I didn't care anymore, I didn't want to be adopted, I refused to see couples or be fostered. If I had to go I'd run away. But my moms told me that there was a sentence on my form that scared off others."

"What was it?" Dean asked.

"Actually, I guess it was one word: Child had not shown proclivity to drug use yet."

"Yet," Dean said.

Cas nodded. "Yes, I was an accident waiting to happen, I was a normal quiet kid waiting to go off the rails. You can't forget the past completely, even if it's not your past people will still tack it to you, judge you by it. The most powerful past is one that invokes fear or threatens to repeat itself. Sam's not trying to tag it on you and he doesn't think you're going to turn into your father, but he doesn't want to lose you. I don't mean you'll get drunk, get in your car and crash and die. I mean that one day, that brave kid who walked his brother to school will turn into someone he doesn't recognize, like your dad did for you."

Dean was quiet. "Did you ever use drugs?" Dean asked, it was so soft that Cas knew he wasn't sure if he could ask.

"Not yet," Cas said.

Dean laughed and lifted his right hand, running it through Cas' hair. He then slid back down the bed on his back and turned his head to the right to look at Cas.

"You're leaving tomorrow," he said.

"Yes," Cas replied.

Dean nodded. "Sucks."

Cas nodded too. "Yes, it does." He paused. "Are you going to see your doctor?"

Dean's brow tensed. "About what?"

"Your heat,"

"Oh!" Dean said. "No I'll wait, see how I feel."

Cas nodded. "They don't usually do anything unless you miss your period or next heat, depends on your history."

Dean nodded. "I'll see if it comes."

"Which?"

"The- The first one."

Cas smiled. "And what's that called again?"

"You know what it's-"

"I don't," Cas said, shaking his head. "Does it start with a P, I can't remember."

"I'm not saying it,"

"Why not?"

"It's embarrassing!"

"Why?"

"Because, I started on the job! I was in a restroom in a garage where we'd tracked our job to and Sam had to get me underwear and pads and stuff." He huffed. "Was embarrassing."

Cas watched him then took Dean's left hand in his and squeezed it. "I'm sorry," he said. "I wish I could have helped."

Dean looked at him. "Would you?" Cas just stared at him. "Have helped?"

"Absolutely," Cas said. "You only have to ask."

Dean chuckled again. "I'm not very good with the asking."

"I know, but I'm not psychic Dean, I can't know you're in a restroom somewhere and need tampons."

"Whoa, hey!" Dean put his hand up. "I don't use those."

"Why not?"

"Because it's weird, they go inside you!"

"Yes?"

"There's only one thing that should be in there."

Cas narrowed his eyes. "Well now I'm confused because I've put three things in there."

Dean had to think for a second. "You know what I mean. It seems weird to just shove an object up there."

"You've never considered a toy?" Cas asked.

"No!" Dean looked at him. "Why have you?" Cas shrugged. "Have you used a-?" Cas shrugged again. "What's it like?"

"I could show you one time," Cas said.

Dean's mind was flooded with images of Cas fucking himself on something black- He didn't know why he thought it was black. He could almost hear Cas moaning, saying his name. He even thought about taking over, holding it and guiding it in and out. Being in complete control of what Cas feels.

"What uh-?" Dean cleared his throat. "What color is it?”

"Orange,"

"Really?" Dean asked.

"Yes," Cas said with a nod.

"How big?"

"Twelve inches."

"Twelve?!" Dean said. "Holy inferiority complex, Batman."

Cas chuckled. "Don't be silly," Cas said. "There is nothing like skin on skin contact, like the touch of-" He was going to say a real person but there was only one person that had touched him like that. "You."

Dean looked at him. "Really?" he asked and Cas nodded. Dean licked his lips and turned a little towards Cas. "So say that, one time, I wanted to see what it was like, you doing that."

"To me or you?" Cas asked.

"You," he said and muttered, "to start with." Dean hadn't meant to but now he was seriously thinking about it, about how it'd go. He felt his heart beating faster and his cock stiffening.

"Yes?"

"Would that be okay?" Dean asked.

"Yes," Cas replied.

"And if I wanted to join in?"

"You mean take hold of it and push it into me?" Dean nodded. "Or tell me what you wanted me to see?" Dean nodded again, clearing his throat.

"I can do that." Cas bit his lip and Dean's eyes went to it. "How would you do it?" Cas felt himself getting hard, it was freeing to talk like this but it was also turning him on.

"What?" He could see Cas was interested and that spiked his own interest. He didn’t think he’d ever find anything more of a turn on than Cas being turned on.

"Well, talk me through it, baby. Do you want to come back from a hunt or shower to me already going? Or...?"

Dean licked his lips again. "I could wake up in the middle of the night to you moaning, wriggling on the bed beside me."

"I would be saying your name," Cas added.

"Then I roll over and you've got your back to me-"

Cas moved on the bed, turning his back to Dean. "Like this?" he asked, trying to prompt Dean to continue.

"Yeah," Dean said, moving close to him. "And you're pushing against me-" Cas did just that. "And pushing that thing into you." Cas swallowed hard. "In and out, hard and slow." Cas closed his eyes, his hips falling into a slow rhythm.

Dean moved to talk near his ear. "Moaning, cock straining, needing to cum but it just not being enough."

"Yes," Cas said and bit his lip, his left hand going to his dick.

Dean leaned away and when Cas heard the drawer open he smiled a little. Then Dean was back again. "So, I lean in," Dean said, doing just that. "And I tell you to stop." He pulled Cas' hand away and it went. He opened the bottle and squirted some on his hand. "I say, 'did that feel good?'"

"Yes," Cas said.

"Do you want me to try?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Cas said, pushing his hips against Dean's.

He jumped when he felt pressure between his cheeks but then relaxed as Dean pushed his finger inside.He hummed and felt Dean kiss his neck.

"How's that?" Dean asked as he slowly pushed it in and out.

"More," Cas said breathlessly.

Dean didn't hesitate, he pushed a second inside and Cas grunted. He pushed back against Dean and swallowed when Dean chuckled against his throat.

"That feel good?" Dean asked.

"Yes, Dean," Cas said. "More."

"In a sec," Dean said and Cas grunted when he felt Dean open his fingers inside him. "For someone who takes twelve inches you're tight."

"I haven't really-" He groaned. "In a while."

"So it's just been me?" Dean asked, kissing his neck.

"Yeah," Cas said and rolled his hips and Dean pushed his hand in once before adding a third. "Dean," Cas said and inhaled. "Dean-"

"Does is vibrate?" Dean asked.

"No," Cas said. "Dean, put it in."

Dean smiled, dirtily. "We don't really-"

"You, put you in," Cas said.

"Oh okay," Dean said, pulling his fingers out and Cas exhaled, wiping his forehead while Dean put lube on his dick.

Dean paused and his eyes went to the back of Cas' head before he moved in close. "You want me to use it?"

"Use what?" Cas asked.

"Your orange buddy," Dean said.

Cas' eyes narrowed in confusion and turned his head to Dean. "Are you making fun of me?"

Dean’s eyes widened. "No, hon, God no. I mean-" he leaned into Cas' ear as he pressed the tip of his dick to Cas' hole. "This toy of yours, do you want me to put it in you?"

Cas turned more to look at him and he raised an eyebrow. It was another two seconds before Cas' mouth opened in realization. "Oh!" he said and Dean nodded. "Oh. Okay," he mumbled then looked ahead, closing his eyes. "Yeah, baby, do it. Use it."

Dean looked down then pushed in a little. Cas inhaled and then held it when Dean did.

"Tell me when to stop," Dean said and Cas smiled briefly before moaning when Dean continued to push into him.

"Dean," he said and rolled his hips, taking another bit inside, they both moaned.

"You really want this thing in you, don't you?" Dean breathed in his ear.

"Yeah," Cas replied breathlessly. "I want you to-" He dry swallowed.

"What? Do what?"

"Do what you want."

"What I want?"

"Just-" Cas grunted. "Keep going."

Dean pushed in more and kissed Cas' neck, sucking on the skin gently. Cas was trying not to push back, he meant it when he'd said he wanted Dean to do what he wanted but what he couldn't word was that he'd meant that he'd wanted Dean to make him feel it, all of those fantasies he'd had to pleasure himself, search out the right spot, move, grind. He wanted it to be done to him, for him, not by him.

Dean pushed all the way in and ran his left hand along the back of Cas' left leg. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," Cas said.

"Not quite twelve inches but-"

"Shut up," Cas said with a scoff. "It was that or 18," he said.

"Wow," Dean said then kissed Cas' neck again.

"Are you okay?" Cas asked.

Dean hummed. "Just letting you adjust to the size." He smirked and Cas did too.

"I can take more than you think," Cas said.

Dean hummed appreciatively. "Really?" Cas leaned his head back and Dean continued kissing him. "So you wouldn't mind if I went... Hard?"

Cas groaned. "Yeah, do it."

"Hard?" Dean asked against his ear.

"Yes,"

"Say it for me," he said and lifted Cas' left at the knee.

"Do it- me hard," Cas said.

Dean smiled against Cas' neck then did just that, making Cas call out and reach up to grab the pillow, then back to run through Dean's hair. Dean pushed hard but not fast to begin with until he got comfortable in their position and knew he wasn't hurting Cas. He continued to kiss his neck but as he got harder and faster Cas called out, moaned his name and pulled his hair and he felt his playful sucks turn bruising between his teeth.

Dean knew he was close and he lifted to talk. "I'm gonna cum soon-" Cas nodded. "I'll suck-" He groaned. "Suck you off after."

Cas' fingers tightened in Dean's fair and his pillow. "You won't-" He moaned louder. "Need to. I'm going to-" He moaned and Dean, his cheek touching Cas' jawline moaned too, knowing he could hold on just long enough to make him come.

"What d'you need?"

"Harder," Cas said. "Ha- right there." Dean's left hand curl around his thigh and held on as he pushed in harder, groaning from the effort as much as the feeling. He looked down to see Cas' long cock twitch, it was heavy and therefore only moved with their motions. "Th- I'm-" Cas moaned, half into his pillow, as he came hard and painfully.

Dean watched as it burst out and coated the sheets and Cas' stomach, chest and would have hit them if they hadn't leaned back.

Cas made breathless moans from the sheer effort and relief and Dean quickened his speed, not as hard, and followed him, biting down on his shoulder as he did, eyes still on the semen until he had to close them. They both panted, and Dean kissed his neck, up to his ear.

"Who needs twelve inches?" Dean said and Cas laughed, breathlessly.

"Who indeed," he said and looked at Dean before they kissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you're wondering; 'Hringgewindla' is an old English word, meaning 'the coil of a serpent sphere', that I decided the society would use to refer to the Adam's apple since the structure would be different from how we know it. It'd have the ability to reach frequencies and volumes that homo sapiens can't, so I thought that the medical community would decide it needed another name to differentiate between a male's Adam's apple and an alpha's. While Cas is both I use Adam's apple to avoid confusion but he has a hringgewindla too.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Cas to leave but what does this mean for their future?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'd like to apologise for how long it took for my to post the last chapter of this. I've had a lot going on rn (I won't bore you because I'll go on for days,I'm so stressed ha) meaning I've just played a computer game and blocked out the world. But believe me I have not been idle.
> 
> Second, if you're interested in the sequel to this please read the note at the end of this!
> 
> Third and finally, whether you like this or not, want to keep reading after this or not, I just want to thank you for everything, the views, the kudos and the comments! 
> 
> This sounds like a goodbye, it's not, I'm just trying to explain.

Dean woke in the night, it happened so quickly his eyes just snapped open. Ghosts of purple and red drifted over the picture of a swamp and a white and black striped swallow tail flag blowing in the dirty wind.

He sat up as quickly as he woke, turning to face the doorway. His jaw was set but his heavy breathing still pushed its way through his teeth, making his lips bulge out.

He gripped the mattress and there was slow movement behind him.

“S’okay,” Cas mumbled and Dean felt more movement as he turned his upper torso to look at the man lying on his front on the bed next to him. There was a metallic and hollow thud and Dean watched Cas sigh and then clear his throat. “Just a second.” Cas lifted up and moved on his elbows, closer to the side of the bed. “I’m here.” He moved back onto the bed, switched what he was holding to his right and then plopped it into Dean’s lap.

Dean looked down to see the metal glint of his baseball bat.

“Here,” Cas said and nudged it against Dean’s leg until Dean put his right hand around it. “It’ll be okay.”

Dean smiled when Cas’ hand moved to sit against his chest briefly and then he tucked it back under his pillow. He wanted so much to put it down, turn around and lie back down next to him, wrapped in him. But he couldn’t, it didn’t work that way, maybe one day it would but not that day.

He stood up, feeling surprisingly awake, and swept through the apartment. He stopped at the balcony and remembered sitting there with Cas just a few hours before. He leaned the bat against the closet door and climbed out onto the balcony.

He felt dizzy and stumbled as he emerged, grabbing onto the balcony wall and looking up to the night sky. There were clouds all over but it was still bright and beautiful behind them. He looked from them to the mostly dark windows across the street then to the streets below. They were deserted apart from the odd vehicle and wanderer.

He looked down, thinking about Benny, Amara, Aaron, Sam and Samandriel. He briefly thought about this mysterious stranger that Cas had a brief moment with. His mind wandered to his father, Cas’ parents, Gabriel and Bobby.

He felt his emotions move from scared to guilty to proud to jealous, from wondering to inferior to ungrateful to curious to loving.

He turned when he heard movement in the apartment and watched Cas walk, eyes closed, into the room; he side-stepped in between the coffee table and TV, turned left between the armchair and table, then slipped between the chair and end table. He then put his hands out as he approached the bathroom door and walked into it.

Dean exhaled and, as he smiled, Cas put his right hand to his head and then used his left to open the door; it was usually ajar. Dean shook his head fondly and looked back up to the sky as Cas went inside.

The one thing he didn’t feel was small.

 

When he got back to bed Cas was already asleep on Dean’s side so Dean sat on the side nearest the window and looked down at Cas. He realized then that he’d left his bat out there, when he’d come in the window he’d just wanted to get back to lying here, beside him.

He lifted his right hand and stroked over Cas’ hair and then lifted his hand as if burned. He moved down the bed and lifted his right arm above his head. He lay there wondering what a mess his next heat would be and then ticking over what they’d discussed earlier. Not that they’d discussed much. It hadn’t needed to be discussed; it was crystal clear. However, it had been like the sun: they could only look at it for a very brief period of time before they had to look away and the impression it left on their retinas wasn’t the same, it was manipulable and that wasn't always for the better.

He tried to convince himself that all of the uncertainty between them was gone now but as he sat, looking blankly ahead, he felt a heavy sadness pressing on his chest. The truth was that he felt that – as ridiculous as it may be – if Cas left then whatever they had would go with him.

He knew it went further than that; he just plainly wanted him to stay. Not wanting someone to leave and wanting them to stay sounded like the same thing but it didn’t feel the same. Cas leaving was like a disconnection and before he hadn’t wanted that link to be broken or the engine to cut out yet now he _wanted_ that connection, that link, to always hear the engine.

He turned on the bed and slipped in behind Cas, put his right hand on his side, he felt the warmth on his palm. He always wanted to be able to touch him, to feel his skin on his. He lifted his hand and gently ran it over the right side of Cas’ hair, marveling the feel of the bulk of strands against his slightly damp hand. He never wanted to stop feeling that.

Cas stirred and turned more towards Dean then settled his head looking forward meaning that Dean could see more of his face. Dean smiled as he looked at him; he was so beautiful but Dean knew he wasn’t just going to miss his looks.

It was more than that; it was the way he spoke, the way he looked at him, the way he moved, the way he cooked, the way he smiled. It went even deeper than that; it was how he thought, how he saw things, how he reacted, how he liked things that were strange to Dean and things he knew all too well, how he laughed and why. it was everything about him.

Dean ran his hand down and touched Cas'. Cas reacted immediately, turning his hand and leaving it open, waiting to be touched. Dean ran his finger over Cas’ palm and his finger relaxed, not waiting to be clasped anymore but ready to feel. He looked to Cas’ face when he heard huffed laughter and saw him smile. Dean looked back down to his hand and ran his finger in a circle around his palm then over his wrist, up his arm. He stopped at his shoulder and circled it slowly, looking to Cas’ face. He’d clearly moved into a deeper sleep and didn’t react at all.

Dean kissed his shoulder, still keeping his eyes on what he could see of his face. He closed his eyes and let his forehead rest against Cas’ skin.

How could something feel like everything?

>><< 

Cas woke up first, in a mild panic that he was supposed to be somewhere, his eyes stuck together with sleep. He wiped his eyes roughly and stopped when he could see Dean lying on his left side, facing him. He couldn’t remember moving to this side but he must have because he was lying on his right side, facing him and the window which was probably why he was struggling to see.

But he’d lost all interest in that.

Instead, he ran his left hand, which had been limp between them, down Dean’s right arm and thought about the past eight days together. It occurred to him – materializing like a detail from a distant dream – that it’d all come so natural to him. After the initial awkward atmosphere, practically living with Dean had been so right. They’d showered together, ate together, watched TV together, just sat in each other’s company, shopped together, slept together and woke up together. And they’d spoken, they’d told stories and jokes, shared secrets, dreams and fears.

He swallowed. He’d spent most of his life trying to keep distance between him and his instincts; running, skipping and cart-wheeling away from them. He’d tried Tai Chi, painting, cycling, yoga, pottery, woodwork, a masturbating regime, detoxes. He’d entertained so many different theories and wild cards that he’d lost count. At that moment he wanted to go home and burn his garage down because not once had it occurred to him or any of those self-help books that perhaps he should have been building up protection against this ‘something’ they’d accidentally created. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it.

But he didn’t want to run away this time, he wanted to handle it, he wanted to be able to. So, he pulled Dean closer and looked over his face. “Dean?” he said and then felt glad when he didn’t answer. “Dean, ba-” He exhaled. “Dean, you will always be my baby.” Dean hummed, contented, and squeezed Cas tight, still asleep. “I-” His face relaxed as the truth of how strong that ‘something’ was and just what that implied for his life. “Or I wish you could be,” he quietly muttered.

He then gently moved away from Dean, out of the bed, then he practically ran into the living room and into the kitchen. He leaned on the sink and looked out of the window, down onto the dark court below.

“What was I thinking?” He paused, lifting his head a little. “Stay away from _all_ omegas, heats and sex.” He nodded. “That was the plan.” He gestured his hand to himself as he realized he wasn’t looking at the court anymore but his own reflection in the window. “That seemed like a good plan.” He watched the light outside try to erase his reflection and wished the night would go on forever. “It  _was_ a good plan,” he said the scoffed sadly before adding, “It was _the only_ plan.” He closed his eyes as if conceding the point he’d made.

Until Dean.

He turned and sat down, his back against the oven and his feet flat on the floor, making it so that his arms could rest on his knees. He closed his eyes tight and tried to name all fifty states in his head but after the first five or six he wondered if Dean had ever lived there, or had a case there, or if his father had hit him in a motel room there.

He remembered Dean’s stab wound and considered how much pain you have to have been through in life to shrug something like that off like a paper-cut. The same way he shrugged off taking a bullet for his father or being punched in the face by him, just for trying to keep him alive.

He then thought about how he reacted to that compared to how he was around an alpha.

It was the two possible extreme reaction to prolonged pain or fear – he’d barely shrugged and kept going or he panicked and his entire system had frozen up.

When they’d started this, Cas had wanted to be with him, to help him through heats and, by extension, protect him from other alphas. Maybe he was the one who had put himself in the role of another chain on the door. He had wanted Dean to feel safe and he hadn’t realized that Dean made him feel safe too. Safe to touch him, hold him, kiss him. He still felt fear but Dean was as much of an antidote as he was a catalyst.

Cas might not know what it was but he knew that ‘something’ wasn’t a strong enough word. And yet, simultaneously, it threatened to be _too strong._

 

Cas eventually got to his feet, stumbling into the chair in front of him. It gave a short screech as he put his hand on it to stop himself. He then went into the bathroom to urinate and splash his face and then went back to bed. He lay on his back next to Dean who snored softly and fell asleep quite quickly.

When he woke up again he knew he was alone before he'd properly woken up. He turned and clambered to the side, stopping halfway to his feet.

He heard music.

He went to the door, opened it and stood there as Dean danced around the kitchen in a t-shirt and loose sweatpants, cleaning up bowls and paper towels. He was alternating between singing and hummed _‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’_.

Cas smiled to himself, aware he’d been greeted by this sight a few times now but sure he would never get sick of it.

 _"Razzle ‘n’ adazzle ‘n’ flash a little light-”_ Dean sang and then went on to hum as he poured coffee into a mug.

Cas decided to step out before he realized that he was watching.

 _“Sugar me sweet-”_ Dean continued and then, sensing movement, turned and smiled widely, rushing to put the pot down and ran to him. _“Ah, innocent sugar, yeah,”_ he continued singing as he put his left hand on his back, his right hand on Cas’ face and kissed his cheek then continued, _“C’mon, take a bottle… Shake it up… Break the bubble, break it up.”_

Cas smiled and put his right hand on his shoulder while his left sat on Dean’s hip.

 _“Pour some sugar on me-”_ He kissed Cas on the lips and then put his right cheek against Cas’ and continued to hum the song as they moved their hips slowly together and tuned from side to side in the process.

Cas felt Dean pull him closer, kiss his neck and then replace his cheek against his and took more control of their movements, making them dance more obviously.

As he did Cas thought back to every other time Dean had caught him watching him and how embarrassed he’d been just knowing that Cas had heard him. And now here he was humming and singing low in Cas ear, dancing with him without even knowing that Cas had stood watching him.

Maybe deviations from plans weren’t that bad; not if they felt like this.

The song kept playing and Dean’s singing calmed to barely an exhale.

“Don’t stop singing,” Cas whispered.

There was a pause in Dean’s movements and then he moved his right arm over Cas’ shoulder, bending his elbow to run his hand through his hair, his movements started up again and Cas’ eyes closed when Dean continued singing against his skin. There was a guitar solo but Dean hummed all the way through it, making Cas wonder if there was any better way to wake up.

When the song stopped they kept dancing for a few minutes.

“This is nice,” Dean said and Cas hummed, “I mean, I was making you breakfast.” He made no attempt to pull away or stop them. “But, if you want, I can keep singing.”

“You’d do that?” Cas asked, smiling.

“Cas,” Dean exhaled softly in his ear, “I’d do anything for you.”

Cas halted his movements, making Dean stop his, and leaned back to look at Dean. He opened his mouth to say something but wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Dean was just looking from one eye to the other – there was not a real fear there, there was embarrassment and a coy smile but the real fear of saying the wrong thing seemed to have vanished from his gaze.

And it had. They admitted there were feelings between them that surpassed what they’d been doing. How could anyone expect that they’d admit that and then there would be nothing new, no new admissions, no new revelations. Dean knew that they’d only just started and he wasn’t about to spend the next year hiding when he sang and pretending like this man didn’t mean a lot to him.

Cas didn’t know what to say and so his brain offered up the only thing he could think of, “What’s for breakfast?”

“Omelet,” Dean answered. “Well, it’s just mixture right now but give me a minute.”

Cas nodded. “I’ll go wash up.”

Dean nodded too, lingering before he reluctantly relinquished his hold on Cas, stepping back.

Cas walked into the bathroom and paused at the sink before he turned the tap on.

And then he heard Dean exclaim from the kitchen, “Ah sonofa- Frick, frick, frick!”

Cas looked at himself in the mirror, mildly confused. “Frick?” he asked himself and then laughed, looking at his smile as he did.

There was a clatter and Dean added, “Bite me!”

Cas chuckled and looked down, putting his hand under the water to check the temperature. “Fricking idiot,” he muttered to himself.

He washed his face, urinated, brushed his teeth and fixed his hair before he walked out, into the kitchen, to see Dean teasing an omelet in the pan. He walked to him and kissed his cheek, making Dean smile.

“What’s that for?” Dean asked, putting his right arm around Cas’ middle briefly before deciding he needed both hands to cook this.

“Frick knows,” Cas replied.

Dean laughed gently. “Window’s open,” he said and Cas looked to it and then out at the court to see a group of kids playing dodge-ball. “Last time Mrs Punji’s kid said ‘asshat’ for three days. I had to give him money to stop.”

Cas went to the refrigerator, took out a bottle of water and took a drink before taking their coffees to the table. He grabbed cutlery in his hand, took two plates and put them beside the cooker while Dean cut the omelet down the middle then put half on each plate. Cas then walked to the table and sat down while Dean turned the heat off, rinsed the pan and dumped it in the sink before joining Cas at the table.

Cas looked across to him and watched him cut a corner of the omelet and shove it in his mouth. He thanked God that he’d had his plan because it’d led him to Dean and if anyone was worth dumping the plan for – it was him.

>><< 

Cas was washing the dishes in the kitchen when Dean let out a loud burp and stood up from the kitchen table.

“Well, I’m going to shower,” he said and rubbed his left hand up Cas’ back, the radio still going in the background. “Kay?” He kissed his cheek and walked away into the bathroom.

Cas looked down at the water and thought about all of the things he had to do for work. He shook his head, wiped his hands on a dish towel and strode of towards the bathroom. He pushed the door open and then closed it behind him.

Dean, who was just stepping under the spray turned his upper torso to look. “You need a leak?” he asked and turned back to the water, cupping his hands under it and tipping it over his chest and then again over his face to quickly acclimatize himself to the water before it’d warmed up.

Cas leaned to pull his pants off, throwing them to the floor. “No,” he said, pulling his t-shirt over his head when Dean turned to look again.

Cas stepped into the shower and wrapped his arms around Dean’s sides. Dean smiled, hearing the shower door close with a hollow rattle. “Oh, that’s what you need, huh?” He chuckled.

“I just didn’t want to be washing dishes when I could be in here,” he said and kissed Dean’s shoulder.

“I told you, you don’t have to do ‘em,” Dean said.

“I know,” Cas replied and loosened his hold when Dean started to turn around in his arms. He saw Cas’ face, his expressions was taught and unhappy. “What’s wrong?”

“I-” Cas said, looking down.

“Hey,” Dean bent his knees, trying to see Cas better, and then lifted his right hand to gently push his chin up but he refused to look at Dean.

Cas’ head was spinning out of control. He was thinking about how they’d spoken and how that had seemed to change Dean’s behavior. It’d even changed his own. And that was terrifying. He’d known they would change and it was already happening.

And then he had to go back into the real world, to work, to work for Amara’s brother. And Dean had to go to court and testify against her all the while Benny was out there, perhaps circling him. He had to share an elevator with Samandriel and Dean had to be stabbed in the abdomen and shrug it off. None of that changed because Dean could sing in front of him now.

Cas looked at Dean’s scar. It was healing and the stitches didn’t look open any more, the water sliding over the skin without a slight chasm of an open wound to navigate. Cas touched his right hand to the area and Dean looked down.

“I’m fine,” Dean said, smiling fondly, and pulled Cas to him, turning him and pushing him against the wall. “It’s nearly done.” He kissed Cas’ neck.

“I-” Cas repeated and closed his eyes, his right hand softly covering Dean’s scar completely.

What was he going to say? He thought about how he could wish that Dean hadn’t had his childhood, or that he didn’t have to be in the firing line every day, he could wish that he didn’t have to work his account, or that he didn’t have to work for Chuck. But what would that do?

In the end the real world was always going to be waiting for them.

“I… Have to leave soon,” he said.

He felt the moment die as Dean froze and pulled back to look at him.

“Right,” he said. “I know, I just didn’t realize you meant right now-”

“I didn’t mean this very second,” Cas said.

“But you had to tell me this very second?” Dean asked, anger slipping into his voice.

“No,” Cas admitted.

“So, why’d you do it?” Dean demanded.

Cas looked in his eyes, there was only one thing for it.

“Would this ever work, Dean?”

Dean’s brow dipped. “What?”

“Us,” Cas replied, “outside the rooms we spend all week in, would this ever actually work or are we kidding ourselves?”

Dean’s face fell and then tensed again. “If you want to go, go,” he said and turned, pushing the door open and stepping out. He slipped on the tile, grabbed the sink and exhaled as his heart began to beat somewhat normally again. He was too angry to be embarrassed but that embarrassment just made him angrier.

Cas had tensed, moving to grab him but then stopped when he steadied himself. “Why won’t you answer me?” he asked, reaching the door. “Why are you just running away?”

“Because that’s what you want me to do,” Dean replied, head bowed.

“It’s not,” Cas defended.

“Okay, so, say I answer,” Dean said and twisted to look at him, keeping his hand on the sink and his feet pretty much where they were on the floor. “What do you expect that answer to be? Why did you sit out there and talk about ‘something’- you said that, not me – and not needing labels and then say this?”

“I asked you because I want to know,” Cas replied.

“No!” Dean yelled and turned away from the sink completely. “You’re asking me because you are _freaking_ out and you know that asking me that will either provoke an argument or make me shut down on you and it’s out of order, Cas!”

Cas could barely think straight. “Dean, I-”

“It is _not_ fair to have a go at me for doing that, saying you’re in this, saying it’s something, and then manipulating me when you get scared.”

Cas snapped, his eyes immediately watering. “And you’ve never been scared?!”

Dean almost slipped again walking to Cas and kissing him hard, pushing him back to the wall and cupping his face. He moved his face from side to side as they broke the kiss.

“I’m sorry,” Cas whispered.

“I’m always scared,” Dean said quietly. “I’ve hit out, I’ve tried to get you to leave and you’ve always pulled me back. I haven’t manipulated you, I wouldn’t do that, don’t do that.” He kissed Cas again. “That’s not us.”

“I know,” Cas said and kissed him. “I do have to leave soon though.”

“I will shoot you in the ass,” Dean said and Cas laughed. “Asshat.”

“Well, I do have twelve inches waiting-”

Dean laughed as he said, “Shut up,” before he kissed him again.

>><< 

Dean stood in a towel that he had to keep fixing around his waist as he cleaned the shower. He then fixed it again as he walked across the living room and into his bedroom.

He stopped just in the doorway at the sight of Cas, at the side of the bed, in dress pants pulling on his white shirt; it was a little worse for wear having been discarded in his bag for eight days.

Dean looked away and moved to the dresser to find jeans.

“What are you going to do with the rest of your day?” Cas asked, looking at Dean while he buttoned his crumpled shirt.

“I need to get groceries and head to the bunker.”

“A job?” Cas asked as Dean dropped his towel and pulled his jeans straight on.

“Nah, just some target practice, ease me back in,” Dean said and Cas refused to remind him of the short job he’d gone on.

“No underwear?” Cas asked, opening his pants to tuck his shirt in.

“Told ya, who says I wear ‘em,” he said and winked before he recognized that Cas was doing his pants up, he turned back and snatched a shirt from his dresser, roughly pulling it over his head.

Cas saw Dean’s facial expression and swallowed.

“Dean,” he said and Dean turned his head, “I want to apologize for earlier.” Dean’s eyes danced over his face. “I don’t know where the reaction came from however I never want to manipulate you. That was never my intention.”

Dean nodded and then looked away. “I know,” he said. “I’m no angel, I’ve tried to get you to leave but,” he looked to Cas as he stepped towards Dean, “you’re supposed to be the sane one.”

Cas smiled as Dean fixed his shirt and turned to Cas.

“I was,” he said. “Until I met you.”

“Which time?” Dean asked and they both smiled before Dean said, “I’m not gonna stand here and I say I won’t freak out in future, push you away, that’s just who I am. But-” He exhaled. “Just but.”

Cas nodded seriously and Dean watched him pull his tie around his neck. Dean stepped towards him and Cas looked up when he pushed his hands away then he started doing his tie for him.

Cas let his hands fall to his side and watched Dean as he worked, he did so slowly and precisely. Cas watched him and thought about the seventeen year old who’d done exactly the same thing. Dean glanced to him and then away before he smirked, making it obvious to Cas that he’d done that on purpose.

“Do you ever wish I’d said yes?” Cas asked and Dean paused as he looked up. “When you came to my room?”

Dean’s face fell to confusion. “Why would you ask me that?”

“I’m not-” He took Dean’s hands together. “I swear, I’m not trying to get you to run. But I always wonder what would have happened.”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know either.”

“I don’t think we would have this,” he said. “I think with either what I was going through or what you went through with Benny. I think it would have ended eventually.”

“Then no,” Dean said. “I’d rather have this, this… Something.”

Cas smiled and kissed him. “Me too.”

“Your tie,” Dean said and Cas looked down, it was askew from when Cas had taken Dean’s hands.

“Screw the tie,” Cas said and cupped Dean’s head as he kissed him again. Dean lifted his hands and pulled the tie undone, leaving it hanging around his neck.

 

They turned away from each other and Cas bundled his tie in his bag then dragged it into the living room and watched Dean, standing on the window seat, opening a small window consisting of four panes in the main window.

He dumped his bag at the door and sat on the couch to put his shoes on, looking at Dean the entire time. Dean turned to jump down but caught Cas looking at him and paused to look back.

“What you lookin’ at?” Dean asked, smiling as he jumped down.

“You,” Cas said and then dipped to his left to fix his shoe before moving on to fix the other.

He stood up as Dean walked to him and then turned, walking to the door. He put his suit jacket on and looked at Dean watching him. “Now, what are _you_ looking at?”

“You,” Dean replied, smirking. However, when Cas grinned so too did Dean. He watched Cas beginning to pull his coat on and exhaled. “So…”

“So,” Cas repeated, settling the coat on his shoulders. “How would you like to proceed?”

“To the bedroom?” Dean chanced and Cas raised an eyebrow before smiling. “I’m not sure how strong the table is-” He turned his torso to glance at the kitchen table then looked back to Cas.

Cas put out his right hand, cupping Dean’s head, and kissed him, making Dean put his hands on Cas’ sides. “Don’t be scared,” he said in a whisper, when he’d pulled back.

“I wasn’t,” Dean said with a smile, moving his right hand under Cas’ jackets, onto his shirt. “I was trying to give you _somethin’_ to think about later.”

Cas used his left hand to push Dean back to the same shelf he’d pushed Dean against on the first day and Dean didn’t tense in pain this time.

“If you carry on I’ll never leave,” Cas said as he looked in Dean’s eyes.

“And what a shame that'd be,” Dean said quietly as they kissed. “How about,” Cas leaned back to look at him, “I give you a call in a few days time?” He let his tongue come out to wet his bottom lip. “I need to brush up, go on a job, shoot something, see my brother, drink too much-” He shrugged. “The usual.”

Cas smiled and nodded. “That sounds agreeable. But you will let me know if your heat shows up?”

“Yup,” Dean said and Cas kissed him once more before letting him go from holding him against the shelf, its legs once more hitting the ground with a low thud.

Dean opened the door as Cas put his bag on his shoulder.

“Are-?” Dean began and Cas looked at him as he stood with half his body behind the door, leaning his right shoulder on it. “The court case.”

“I’ll be there,” Cas said. “Nothing could stop me.” Dean nodded once, looking at the floor.

Cas kissed his cheek and left through the door. Dean didn’t look up as it closed, he even nodded once and then locked it. He quickly turned away and tried not to think about it while he thought about what he needed to get together to go out. He smiled to himself when he thought about how they’d left it, how they’d cleared it up, how they’d finally said that, yes, this was something, Dean could be confident of that.

Cas had paused on the other side of the door to fix his bag and smiled when he heard Dean walk away without pulling the chain across. He may have said he was going out but it still filled Cas will comfort. He walked along the corridor and then down the stairs smiling to himself.

Cas paused on the doorstep and looked around at the world outside, a world that felt different to the world he’d left as he’d walked in at the beginning, even as they'd come back from _Costco_.

It was a cool day, the sky dull and threatening rain but the fresh air as welcome as it was unwelcome to Castiel. They’d been more or less cooked up in those same four rooms for eight days and Cas hadn’t even gone into Dean’s office for long. It felt nice to inhale air that was fresh and even though scientists could explain it in terms of oxygen and carbon dioxide levels and dust particles there was no social way to explain it – except perhaps crisp and light. However, he hadn’t even noticed that Dean’s apartment had felt dense and murky until he was out of it. It occurred to him that that was probably why Dean had been opening his window when he was putting his shoes on.

And yet the world was the same one he’d left, it was him that was different. Now, he knew – really felt like he _knew_ – what he and Dean were now. ‘Something’ might seem vague to anyone else but to him it was as clear as that fresh air he was now breathing in.

He slowly walked to the car, letting his arm fall heavily as he lowered the bag from his shoulder. He put his bag in his trunk and then pushed the lid closed. He paused and looked up.

Dean was leaning on folded arms on the ledge of his balcony. When he saw Cas looking up he raised his right hand in a sort of wave, smiling. Cas smiled and lifted his hand back before he walked to the driver’s seat. He turned his upper torso and looked again as he unlocked his door and got in.

Dean lifted off of the ledge and took a small step backwards, Cas tooted his horn as he pulled out of the parking lot and into the street and Dean turned to go back inside.

Cas sat at the traffic lights with a more content feeling than the last time he had; Dean picked up his _Xanax_ bottle in the bathroom and thought about what he was going to do with less irrationality than the last time; Garth lay in his bed in the bunker wondering if this dog bite would ever heal and wondering why he felt more aggressive than he used to; Ash’s eyes followed the code on the screen, thinking about Bela more than he used to; Claire was finding less cases of fraud via religion than she used to; Charlie was researching different crimes involving taking money from companies than she used to as criminals targeted more big companies than charities than they used to; Sam was getting more heroin users in suburbs across his desk than he used to; Amara was finding that her brother avoided her more than he used to and a group across town were finding that the bounty hunters were raiding their safe houses more frequently than they used to.

It was as if there was something in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't fret, there are, at least two more sequels to this, possibly three. I know where this is going, I just don't know the exact journey. But I can guarantee at least a part seven. 
> 
> I have actually finished part six, on paper (because sometimes you need away from screens), however it might take a bit longer to get this typed, edited and uploaded for you than you're used to from me. Purely because I have unintentionally abandoned some stories to take on this story and I feel like I owe the people who have been following them and commenting closure on these stories. 
> 
> Please don't give up on me, I always come back, I always finish the stories because I know what it's like to not get to the end of a story. If it's just a story it's frustrating, it's irritating and it's saddening. If you're invested it's worse, it's in itch you have no means of scratching, you scratch near it yourself, maybe imagine what it feels like, but you never quite get there. I can't go that to people, so I hope you'll understand if this takes a little longer, just to give me time to work on the resolution of those stories.


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